Don't Let Me Down
by PrettiestStar17
Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts, the trio are offered the chance to return to school for a proper seventh year. Plagued by nightmares, Harry isn't sure he wants to go back. When the Minister of Magic presents him with a once in a lifetime chance to pursue his Auror dreams, he finds the offer too good to pass up.
1. Chapter 1

Harry sat in the circular office, surrounded by a variety of new and familiar faces. To his immediate left sat Ron, clutching the hand of a trembling Hermione. To his right, Percy Weasley diligently sat, quill in hand, transcribing every word of the ongoing conversation. Across from him, sharing the now Headmistress', desk were Minerva McGonagall and Kingsley Shacklebolt. Several other ministry officials occupied conjured chairs, silently taking in the testimony of the three teenagers before them. The subjects in the portraits of former Hogwarts Headmasters, who usually feigned slumber during serious discussions, were bright eyed and reveling in the tales of the past year.

Two portraits played a very integral part in helping the trio tell their story. Former headmasters Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape helped in confirming facts that would otherwise seem outlandish and impossible for a teenager to accomplish. They also shared their own knowledge at parts of the story where Harry was only able to speculate.

Harry slumped back in his own chair, after having painstakingly relived the evening that they had narrowly escaped Malfoy Manor. Professor Dumbledore gave him a comforting smile and nod, his blue eyes twinkling behind his half moon spectacles. They were concluding the third, and final, day of questioning.

"Harry," Kingsley started, "I understand you're carrying a heavy burden at the moment, but I don't want you to feel like you need to defend the Malfoys. They are all intelligent and highly skilled wizards. There was no confusion on their part when they pledged their loyalty to Lord Voldemort."

Harry sighed and nodded. "I understand Minister, and I hope that you don't confuse my moment of pity here for compassion. I certainly don't think they should be let off the hook for their crimes, but possibly some leniency shown in their punishments. This last year, possibly two, I truly don't think they stuck by Lord Voldemort's side out of want, but out of fear. Fear, as we have learned, can compel great men to do terrible things." Harry muttered the last sentence, attempting to avoid Dumbledore's gaze. It did not, however, escape Dumbledore's ears.

"I don't think truer words have ever been spoken by someone so young," the former headmaster acquiesced, with another humble smile.

Harry glanced up, relieved, and gave him an appreciative nod. He blew out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding and added,"Plus, Mrs. Malfoy saved my life on Saturday evening. Even if it was for purely selfish reasons on her part, I wouldn't be sitting here today without her." Harry gently touched the spot on his chest where Voldemort's second, unsuccessful killing curse had landed. Still quite tender to the touch, Madame Pomfrey couldn't confirm how long the visible bruising would last, but was certain that over time it would fade.

Kingsley nodded in understanding and asked no more. "I can't make any promises as to what their punishments will be. They of course will have to stand their own individual trials, but we will certainly call upon your testimony to help the Wizengamot make their final decisions." He shuffled through a few pieces of parchment on the desk, murmuring and pointing out a few bits to Professor McGonagall, who nodded curtly in agreement. "Well then," Kingsley's smooth baritone voice announced, "Unless you fine gentlemen and ladies have anything further to discuss, I think we can satisfactorily conclude our inquiry."

"Thank Merlin," Ron whispered. Hermione let out the sobs she had been holding in since describing her torture under Bellatrix Lestrange, and buried her face in Ron's shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her and murmured soothingly into her hair.

The other ministry officials echoed their agreement and stood at once. One by one, they shook Kingsley's hand and quickly strode to the fireplace, loudly declaring their destinations and vanishing in a whoosh of green flames. Kingsley himself gathered up his quills and parchment pieces, then gestured for Harry to join him as he walked to the grate.

"I know this was difficult Harry, but we all very much appreciate your cooperation. Ron and Hermione's also, of course," Kingsley said, as he reached out to shake Harry's hand. "I can imagine that the only thing on your mind right now is a hot meal and warm bed."

Harry gave a weak smile as he grasped the Minister's hand. "They definitely top the list." Harry let the face of a comforting, fiery redhead float through his mind for a split second before Kingsley interrupted his thoughts.

"Professor McGonagall will only keep you three a few moments longer to discuss a couple of things. I'd like to talk to you though, privately, about some options for your future." Kingsley scooped some floo powder into his fist and stepped into the hearth. "Expect to hear from me in June." He gave Harry one last smile before booming, "Ministry of Magic!" and disappearing into the flames.

"Right, Mr. Potter, can you rejoin us please," Professor McGonagall called from her desk. She vanished the extra chairs and motioned for Harry to reclaim his. Harry sat back down beside Ron, who was still holding Hermione against his chest. Her sobs had transitioned into hiccups and 2 flicks of her wand, McGonagall conjured a goblet of water and handkerchief. "Here you are Miss Granger," she said gently, as she floated the items across to Hermione.

"Thank you Professor," Hermione squeaked, between hiccups. She took a sip of water and blew her nose. After a few deep breaths she was able to relax back into her chair.

"As Kingsley said, I promise not to keep you all much longer," Professor McGonagall started. "I just wanted to inform you that Hogwarts will extending invitations to all the current seventh years for the chance to repeat their final school year and sit their N.E.W.T.s. I hardly consider this year an example of a well rounded education," she added with a huff. "It, of course, is not mandatory. You're all of age and free to choose your own paths for the future, but I wanted to let you know that if you so choose, Hogwarts will gladly welcome you back for another year."

Hermione's face brightened at this news. Harry knew that her mind was whirling with the idea of returning to school and securing her N.E.W.T levels. "Really Professor?!" Professor McGonagall smiled and nodded. "Wow, this is wonderful news!" She looked over at Ron and Harry, grinning, and started shaking Ron's arm "We get to have one more year in the castle!"

Ron gave her an obligatory grin, but Harry could tell the thought of N.E.W.T. exams made his stomach churn. Almost on cue, Ron clutched his middle and attempted to suppress a groan as he replied, "Yeah, brilliant, thanks Professor."

Professor McGonagall gave another nod and stood up. "Take some time to rest up and think about it. You don't need to decide here and now. But you can expect to receive your letters and list of supplies at the usual time. You can reply with your decisions at that time." She walked around to the front of her desk as the three of them stood up. In a surprising move, she swooped in and gave each one a tight hug. "Thank you for all you have done and sacrificed. The wizarding world will not soon forget it. I'm so proud to call you Gryffindors." Her eyes glistened as she beamed at them and smoothed a wrinkle in her robes.

Harry instinctively looked up at the sword of Godric Gryffindor, gleaming in its case. As he looked away, Dumbledore caught his eye. The headmaster gave him a final smile and wink. Harry smiled back and followed Professor McGonagall to the fireplace.

"Go on now," the Headmistress instructed. "Get some well deserved rest."

One by one, they grabbed a handful of floo powder. Hermione stepped into the fireplace and called out, "The Burrow!" Once she had made her exit, Ron followed. As soon as the fireplace was empty again, Harry took his turn. His last vision was Professor McGonagall smiling proudly at him, tears streaking her cheeks. Within seconds, he was spun furiously until the headmistresses office melted into the sight of the Weasley's kitchen.

As he stepped out of the grate, Harry noticed Ginny sitting at the table, bundled up in a faded purple robe, greeting Ron and Hermione. The moment she noticed Harry, brushing soot off his jeans, she flew out of her seat and wrapped her arms around him. He gratefully pulled her into him and just held her, burying his head in her hair. He felt like he could have stood there all night, holding her in his arms….making up for lost time. He finally made himself give her a gentle squeeze and slowly stepped back, letting his hand linger for an extra second on her hip.

"What time is it?" Harry asked, as he took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. The scene outside the window, above the sink, showed a black velvet sky, dotted with a crescent moon and stars. Between trying to fight off nightmares in order to gain a moment of sleep and sitting for lengthy ministry inquiries, dates and times had become an illusion.

"Eleven-thirty," Ginny whispered. "Wednesday night," she supplied, as Harry's face contorted, trying to do his calculations.

"You should be asleep," Harry said, reaching out and squeezing her hand.

"I couldn't sleep without knowing you three were back safely," Ginny replied. She returned the hand squeeze and gave him a tug towards the stairs. "Come on, mum set up Percy's old room for you. Hermione, I believe she set up Bill and Charlie's room for you."

Harry nodded and let her guide him up to the second floor. Ron escorted Hermione up two more floors to Bill and Charlie's old room. Harry lingered at Percy's door and turned to face Ginny, who was still holding his hand. "It's…..I…." Harry stumbled over words, trying to figure out how to turn his thoughts into sentences.

Ginny smiled and shook her head. "I know," she whispered. She brushed a light kiss over the top of his hand and then made her way down to her bedroom, on the first floor.

Harry let himself into Percy's room and quietly closed the door, relieved when it uttered no loud creaks. He stripped down to his boxers, placed his glasses on the nightstand, and crawled under the warm quilt. He lied there, staring at the ceiling, wrestling with the thought of how he was going to tell the others that he had no desire to return to Hogwarts.


	2. Chapter 2

Everyone Harry seemed to come in contact with during the following week echoed the same, cliched sentiment- "Get some rest, you deserve it." But that first week back in The Burrow was anything but restful. Harry made it a priority to attend every funeral and memorial service his schedule would allow. The decision made him question his sanity, but he felt obligated to honor those that had fought and died on his behalf.

Harry attended Remus and Tonks' funeral with the remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix. The couple were laid to rest together, aside Tonks' father, Ted. Tonks' mother, Andromeda, sat alone, trying to calm a very fussy little Teddy Lupin on her lap. She struggled to quiet him as the minister started the service.

"May I?" Harry whispered, holding out his hands toward the infant. Andromeda gave him a grateful smile and handed the baby to him, along with a blanket and bottle. Harry carried his godson to the back of the crowd. He never had much contact with babies, let alone held one, but comforting the little bundle came instinctively. He gently bounced Teddy and offered the bottle. Harry was pleased to see him except the milk and smiled down at the child in wonder.

Teddy had Remus' eyes, but had obviously inherited his mother's Metamorphmagus abilities. Harry softly laughed as Teddy's hair changed from a bright turquoise blue to powder pink, and then back again. As the baby relax on a full stomach, his hair color settled to blue and he dozed off. Harry silently promised Teddy that he'd grow up knowing how amazing Remus and Nymphadora were, and that Harry would try not to be a disappointment in his role of godfather. At the end of the service, Harry handed the slumbering infant back to Andromeda, who promised to come to The Burrow for Sunday dinner, week after next.

Ginny accompanied Harry to Colin Creevey's funeral, having been in the same year. But for Severus Snape's, Harry insisted that he was fine to attend solo. He could see that none of the others really wanted to go, and he couldn't blame them. He had told them all about the memories he had witnessed in the pensieve, and, while they acknowledged that the war wouldn't have been won without him, their personal memories of the potions professor were still too bitter.

Harry disapparated from The Burrow under a clear blue sky. When he appeared at the Spinner's End Cemetery entrance, he was met with a steady drizzle that would soak his hair and robes by the time he made this way to the grave site. He wasn't surprised to see only a smattering of people gathered around. The small group turned upon his arrival and Harry was suddenly aware that the only other people there were the Hogwarts professors. Professor McGonagall gave him a knowing smile and beckoned him under that small black canopy. He joined her side for, what Harry was sure had to be, the briefest funeral service ever held.

The final funeral, and by far the hardest, was Fred's.

Harry's heart broke for his adopted family as he watched them painfully plan out the details. George was a silent witness through the ordeal, faintly nodding in agreement when Molly or Arthur asked his opinion. The only words Harry could remember hearing him utter in those blurry days were when Arthur proposed adding an inscription to the headstone. Molly had started to offer possible quotes, but George cut her off and said, firmly, "Mischief managed." He sunk back against the chair and mumbled softly, "That's what he would want."

The day of, Harry dressed in a set of dark green dress robes and made his best attempt at taming his unruly black hair. After a few minutes he deemed his attempt unsuccessful and went to seek Hermione's help. He found her in Ron's room, on the fifth floor, helping him straighten his black dress robes. She was wearing a long, billowy black dress, with a white shawl covering her shoulders. Ron looked up as Harry entered his room and tried to smile, but it came across as more of a grimace. Harry ventured a comforting smile, trying to hold himself together at the sight of Ron's wet, bloodshot eyes.

"Hey, Hermione," Harry greeted mildly. "Do you have anything in your arsenal that might bring this under control?" Harry asked, waving his hand over the top of his head.

Ron snorted and gave a hoarse laugh. Hermione patted Ron's now straightened collar and turned to Harry with a weak smile. Harry couldn't help but notice that her eyes were also red and streaked with tears. She nodded and sifted through a bag on Ron's nightstand. She walked over to him with a tube of gel and a comb. "Would you like me to fix it for you?" Hermione asked.

"You're a saint for trying," Harry sighed, sitting down on Ron's desk chair and taking off his glasses. Hermione started working the fruity smelling gel through his hair and then combed it down, so that it was lying flat and across the left side of his head. Harry glanced in the mirror and breathed out in relief. "Much better, thank you." He grasped her hand briefly and said, "I'll see you guys downstairs then, yeah?"

Ron nodded and Hermione replied, softly, "We'll be down in a few minutes."

Harry made his way downstairs and was met with the same somber, red eyed faces in the kitchen and sitting room. George sat in an armchair, in the corner, his face pale and directed at the ceiling. Molly was in the kitchen, half heartedly trying to get anyone to eat something from the plethora of breakfast foods heaped on the table. Arthur looked like he was forcing himself to read the Daily Prophet, every now and then pausing to take a sip of tea. Ginny sat beside her father, poking aimlessly at pile of scrambled eggs.

Harry couldn't help but stop in the doorway for a moment and take in how simply beautiful she was. Her red hair had been curled and yellow daisy clips held it away from her face. She wore a black sundress, with yellow daisies lining the bottom hem, that fell just below her knees. The sight allowed him to breath easy, if only for a few moments.

Finally realizing that she was being watched, Ginny looked up and smiled warmly at Harry, patting the empty chair beside her. Harry accepted the seat and an instant later was presented with a plate and cup of tea. "Please, eat something Harry, dear," Molly encouraged, gently patting his arm and dashing back to the oven.

Harry wasn't very hungry but pulled a piece of bacon onto his plate and started spreading strawberry jam onto a slice of toast. He started nibbling on the toast as Ginny leaned in and whispered, "Baking is her escape." Harry nodded knowingly and slowly ate half his toast. He had just picked up his bacon when Ron and Hermione came into the kitchen.

They took the seats across from Ginny and Harry and were immediately given plates and tea. "Eat up," Molly prompted. Ron plucked a scone from a pile and started pulling bits off, but none of them made it to his mouth. Hermione took a slice of toast and bit off a corner, chewing slowly and glancing around the room.

A sudden sigh made them all turn. Arthur put down his paper and said, "Molly, darling, please heed your own advice and eat something. You've been bustling about in this kitchen all morning. We could invite all of Devon for breakfast and still have leftovers."

"I still have so much to do Arthur," Molly quickly replied. "After the….um…well, this afternoon we have so many people coming over. I need to make sure we're ready. Lunch will need to be prepared, tables set up, places set…"

Arthur rose from his seat and walked over to pull his wife into a tight embrace. At that moment, Bill and Fleur walked in the back door. Fleur kissed Molly's cheek and set about helping with the unspoken kitchen duties. Bill kissed his mother's head and gave his father a pat on the back before joining George in the sitting room. Molly softly wept into Arthur's chest as he stroked her hair. Harry's heart felt like it was going to rip in half. He gave Ginny's hand a gentle squeeze, vanished his uneaten food, and dropped his plate in the sink as he hurried into the garden.

Harry quickly crossed the yard to the stone boundary wall, sending a few gnomes scampering in his wake. He leapt over the wall and sat on the soft grass, with his back pressed against the jagged stones. Het took several, slow, deep breaths, in a vain attempt to control his breathing and not hyperventilate. Something about Molly not being able to say funeral sent him into a downward spiral. He didn't want to crumble in front of the family. They already had so much to deal with and worry about, he didn't want them to think they had to fuss over him also. The day was going to be hard enough as it was, without him turning into a puddle of emotions.

He heard a flutter of activity in the house and guessed that they were all getting prepared to depart for the cemetery. Harry took one last deep breath and was just climbing back over the wall when the family started filing out the back door. Harry noticed Charlie had joined the flock and gave him a polite wave as Ginny strode over to Harry's side, fastening her traveling cloak around her shoulders. She clutched his left arm as he pulled his wand from his robes. Arthur surveyed the group, slipped his hand into Molly's, then gave a curt nod. Almost in unison, the rest of them took a deep breath, spun on their spots, and disapparated.

They instantly reappeared a mile across the village, in front of a kissing gate. Ginny stumbled a little and tightened her grasp on Harry's arm to steady herself. She blew a few strands of hair from her face and looked up at Harry. He gave her a puzzled look and she whispered, "What?" Harry jerked his head slightly towards the kissing gate.

The gate was rusted and ancient looking, with a big chain and padlock barring their entrance. Harry didn't understand why they would want to enter though. The grass behind the gate was overgrown and laying waste to the crumbling headstones and monuments. The path leading up to the gate was lined with old, gnarled oak trees that casted shadows over the entire cobbled ground. Harry was sure they had come to the wrong cemetery. Surely no one had be laid to rest here in over a century.

Ginny pointed to her father and whispered, "Just watch."

Harry looked over at Arthur as he strolled up to the gate with Molly. Both held their wands out and walked straight through the gate, as if the metal bars weren't there. The others quickly followed their lead and Harry realized that this must solely be a wizard cemetery, outfitted with Muggle repelling charms. He felt Ginny's elbow gently nudge his side, urging him forward. Together, they lifted their wands and walked through the gate, behind Ron and Hermione.

A sudden rush of cool air and they emerged on the other side. The shadows gave way to a bright blue sky, adorned with puffy white clouds. Gone was the overgrowth and dilapidated headstones. Instead, there were grand Marble statues jutting out of the lush green earth, paying tribute to various witches and wizards. Scattered around were smaller, granite stones of all shapes. Some were engraved with moving pictures of the deceased. Many were outfitted with torches of eternal flames. On the far north side of the graveyard, Harry spotted what seemed to be a dozen large stone sheds.

As if reading his mind, Ginny pointed to the buildings and said, "Tombs of the noble wizarding families."

Harry swallowed hard and nodded, following the family to a sparkling white tent that was covering two small sections of chairs. Ginny led Harry to the front row and he sat down in the far right, corner seat. Ginny sat down in the chair to his left, with Hermione, Ron, Percy, and George completing their row. Across the aisle, Bill, Fleur, and Charlie took their seats, leaving the two closest to the center for Molly and Arthur. The final seat in the first row was reserved for the twins' best friend, Lee Jordan.

Molly and Arthur stood in the back of the tent to greet family and friends that had come to pay their respects. First to arrive was Aunt Muriel. She hugged Molly and Arthur then quietly made her way to a chair in the second row. Ginny got up from her seat to go say hello. Harry sat and watched as more people poured into the cemetery. It quickly became apparent that the family underestimated how many people Fred's life had touched.

Harry marveled as what appeared to be the whole of Hogwarts filled up the chairs under the tent. Students, teachers, even Argus Filch, dressed in their best robes, turned up to say a final goodbye to one of Hogwarts' most legendary pupils. Mourners soon outnumbered the chairs and people started filing around to the sides of the tent. Some conjured their own chairs, while others just stood solemnly by.

" 'ello 'arry," a gruff voice spoke from beside him. Harry gasped and quickly turned to his right. He had been so focused on watching people arrive, he hadn't noticed Hagrid sidled up beside him. "Ya alright?"

"Hey Hagrid," Harry said breathlessly, feeling his heart regain a steady rhythm. "Honestly, I've had easier days. It's good to see you though. I know it means a lot to Molly and Arthur to be surrounded by so many people that loved Fred."

"Good kid, he was. Nevr' failed ter make me laugh." Hagrid waved to Ron and Hermione before giving Harry's shoulder a pat and made his way to the back of the group of people along the side. For Hagrid, it was meant to be a gentle and comforting pat, but it nearly sent Harry flying off the seat. As he righted himself, Ginny returned to her seat. Harry straightened his glasses just in time to see an owl fly into the tent and drop a rolled up piece of parchment into George's lap.

George unrolled the parchment, scanned it for a few seconds and swore. While his choice word wasn't loud, the group was quiet enough that the sudden profanity turned many heads. George didn't notice. Fresh tears spilled as he got up and stalked to the back of the tent. Bill and Charlie scrambled out their seats to follow him. Hermione gave Ron a look. He nodded, prodded Percy, and they made their way to the back of the tent. Ginny and Hermione exchanged questioning glances, but said nothing and kept their eyes glued to the back of the tent.

Harry made a point of of studying a dandelion popping out to the ground, between his feet. He was concentrating on keeping his breathing even, when Ron appeared at his right side.

"Hey mate, can you come back with us for a mo' " Ron mumbled.

"Sure," Harry answered. Ron started walking back. Harry shrugged his shoulders at Ginny, but got up and followed his friend to the group of Weasley men huddled together.

Arthur looked up at Harry and gave him a regretful smile. He was holding the piece of parchment that was just delivered to George. "Harry, son, I hate to burden you, but we've encountered a last minute change in plans. Lee was supposed to be our sixth pallbearer, but we just received word," Arthur held up the parchment in explanation, "that he will be unable to attend today. I know it's a bit much to ask last minute, but would you consider filling in for him?"

Harry gulped and tears stung his eyes. He chanced a glance at George, who was standing with his mother, silently shaking hands with the final guests. Ron had told him earlier in the week that George had been adamant about not being a pallbearer. No one fought or pushed for him to change his mind. When asked, Lee Jordan accepted the role, saying it was the least he could do as a final honor to his friend. It seemed now, though, that the reality was too much for Lee to handle.

Harry nodded, swallowing again in an attempt to find his voice. "Of course I will," Harry said, his voice strained as he willed his tears not to spill. "Whatever you need, I'm here."

Arthur reached out and pulled Harry into a tight embrace. "Thank you," he whispered. "George is angry, obviously. I don't think so much about Lee bailing, but the thought of having to fill that role. He's not coping very well at the moment."

Harry patted Arthur's back. "I understand Mr. Weasley. As I said, whatever you need."

Arthur gave Harry's back two firm thumps and released him. He took a deep breath and turned around. "Here we are then," Arthur muttered. He hurried over to Molly and whispered in her ear. Her face went ghostly white as she looked up.

Harry followed her gaze to the small gravel lane. A horse was slowly pulling a covered carriage towards them. It stopped a few years away from them and the driver climbed down to start pulling back the deep purple curtains on the carriage. Harry saw the mahogany casket and took a few steps back. The family started walking to the carriage. Harry walked back up through the tent, to Ginny.

"Come with me," he said gently, holding out his hand. She hesitated, a knowing look washing across her face. She cleared her throat and took Harry's hand, standing up and smoothing out her dress. Hermione looked up at him, with a rather put out look. Harry bent down closer to her and said hoarsely, "He's here. If you'd like to come back for Ron, but I think they want to have a private moment before the ceremony starts."

Hermione nodded and motioned for Fleur to follow along. Harry walked with Ginny back up the aisle and down to the carriage. He slipped her hand from his to Charlie's and made his way back to the tent entrance, to stand beside Hermione. After a few minutes, Bill, Ron and Fleur made their way back up, Hermione ran to Ron and hugged him tightly. Harry could see his best friend all but collapse in her arms and sob as they held each other and rocked back and forth.

Ginny and Charlie joined them moments later, quickly followed by Percy. Ginny nestled into Harry's side and wrapped her arms around his waist. Molly and Arthur took their time at the carriage. When they returned to the tent, George stood stood alone at the carriage. Molly cried softly as she watched him place his hands on the casket and bow his head.

"Why don't you girls take your seats," Arthur suggested. "The minister is here and we'll be starting the ceremony very soon."

Ginny let go of Harry and took her mum's hand, guiding her back up the aisle to her seat, Hermione and Fleur following. Harry followed the others back down to the carriage and awaited his instructions.

Arthur clasped a gentle hand on George's shoulder and said, "It's time, son."

George nodded, gave the casket two quick taps, and whispered, " 'Til we meet again Freddy," before hurrying back to the tent.

"Right," Arthur said, looking around at the remaining men. "Percy and I will take the front, Bill and Charlie in the center, Ron and Harry in the back."

Harry scurried into position as the casket was slid from the carriage, onto a floating board. From there, on Arthur's count, Harry lifted it over his left shoulder. Slowly, they carried their brother…son…friend…to his final resting spot.

It was a beautiful and simple ceremony. The weather couldn't have been more cooperative. Both Bill and Arthur stood up to give humorous, yet heartbreaking eulogies. The minister delivered an inspiring service about how death is not the end, but the beginning of yet another grand journey. Harry smiled at the sentiment, reminded of Dumbledore telling him something very similar.

As the service started drawing to a close, Harry peered down to the end of their row of chairs and was worried when he saw George's empty chair. He went to whisper something about it to Ginny, but at that moment the minister called the family forward and she stood and moved to stand beside her mother. The casket started to lower and the minister invited each of them to take a white rose, to toss into the grave. The family accepted, with Molly and Arthur simultaneously tossing theirs last. As the last flowers fell, a sonorous BOOM sounded overhead, causing screams to erupt from the mourners and a few to dart towards the gate.

Harry grabbed Hermione's hand and pulled her out of the tent. He drew his wand, ready to disapparate, thoughts of escaped Death Eaters racing through his mind. But then a glittering phoenix caught his eye and he abruptly stopped and looked up. Harry, still holding Hermione's hand, smiled and took a few steps forward.

Fireworks were exploding overhead. Whistling snitches zigzagged across the sky as the image of a red haired boy on a broomstick whizzed by, swinging a blunger bat, leaving a trail of red sparks in his wake. More explosions produced two golden Ws, that hung majestically in front of the clouds. Laughter rang out amidst oohs and ahhs and everyone spent the next five minutes pointing and enjoying the show, as showers of sparks continued to light up the sky. Harry had never seen anything like it.

"It's brilliant," Hermione gasped. Harry looked over and saw her smiling ear to ear, as tears poured down her cheeks.

Finally, one last blast rocked the cemetery and a sparkling green, knitted Weasley sweater erupted, emblazoned with a fiery letter F. Harry could hear Molly's laughter clearest of all and it was the most glorious sound he had heard in a long while. The hole left in the family would never be able to be filled, but, if Harry was sure of one thing in this world, the Weasley family bond was strong and he was so thankful to be a part of it.

As the sparks faded and the throng of people started to disperse, Harry caught a glimpse of red dart into the veil of a weeping willow tree. He smiled, knowing George had been able to give his brother the sending off he deserved.


	3. Chapter 3

_Harry fought against the pull of the locket, trying to kick his way to the surface of the icy lake. He could see Ron and Hermione standing at the water's edge, dressed in their funeral attire. He reached out, frantically waving for them to help. They gave no signs of wanting to provide assistance to their drowning friend._

 _Ron's eerily calm voice sounded in Harry's ear. "We trusted you. You said you knew what you were doing."_

 _Harry shouted out, "No!" but all that emerged from his mouth were strangled bubbles. The horcrux pulled him deeper and deeper, as the icy water burned his lungs. Harry watched in horror as his best friends turned their backs and walked away. The locket continued to drag him down…deeper and deeper, darker and darker, until there was nothing left…._

"NO!" Harry felt a sharp pain in his left side. His eyes burst open and were instantly flooded with bright sunlight streaming in the living room window.

"Harry!" Ginny swung her legs off the arm of the recliner and knelt down by his side. Harry blinked a few times, letting his eyes adjust to the sudden illumination. He realized that he was on the floor and the pain in his side came from tumbling off the couch. Ginny held her hand out to him and helped him to his feet. "Another nightmare?" she asked.

Harry rubbed his side and nodded. "Can it really be called a nightmare if you have it in the middle of the afternoon?" He laughed pitifully at his own joke and grabbed his glasses from the side table. "Thanks for setting these aside," Harry said, motioning to the glasses as he put them on. Ginny smiled and curled back up on the chair to continue reading her novel. "I'm gonna get some fresh air." He stroked her hair and headed out the back door.

Hopping the stone wall, Harry set off for the smaller pond that laid about a half mile away. It had become a favorite destination for when he wanted to avoid certain discussions.

After Fred's funeral, they all started trying to gain a sense of normalcy to their lives. The main talk of the house was Harry, Ron, and Hermione being able to return to Hogwarts in September. Molly was beside herself, so happy that they would be able to finish their education. It also had the benefit of giving her something positive to focus on after so much loss. Ginny had positively glowed when Hermione told her the news. She was looking forward to picking up where she and Harry had left off a year ago. The look of pure happiness she showed Harry had left him paralyzed and unable to do anything but smile back at her. He couldn't bring himself to break her heart by telling her that he, in fact, didn't want to return to the castle.

Despite the somber mood around the house, Harry had felt peaceful for the first time since Bill and Fleur's wedding. Since Harry's return to The Burrow, there had been an unspoken understanding between him and Ginny. They were affectionate with each other, but both careful not to take it over the top. As much as he wanted to steal her away to a secluded corner of the orchard or sneak into her room on one of his many sleepless nights, he respected Molly and Arthur too much to betray their trust in him with their only daughter. And so, for the time being, they kept their physical interactions to a minimum.

Ron and Hermione weren't quite so subtle in their displays, as Harry was reminded when the pond came into view. On the far bank, under the shade of several apple trees, the couple were in the middle of what Harry could plainly see was a passionate moment. Shoes had been kicked off and Hermione's ponytail had come loose as she yanked Ron's t-shirt off of him.

Harry quickly retreated back up the trail before either one could spot him, though he doubted whether a Dementor could distract them at the moment. He chalked it up to making the most of their time together. The following day, Hermione would be accompanied by two ministry officials to Australia, intent on finding her parents and safely restoring their memories. She met with Kingsley two days prior to finalize the details and had returned to The Burrow with a handful of pamphlets about magical careers and all their requirements. That evening and the next day, Ron seemed a bit put off as Hermione poured over every pamphlet, every now and then handing him one or two, encouraging him to "just think about it".

Harry made his way back to the house and was grateful to see a platter of sandwich fixings laid out. He fixed himself a corned beef and swiss sandwich, grabbed a handful of crisps, and sat down to dig in.

"An owl arrived for you while you were out," Ginny announced, walking into the kitchen. She set a rolled up piece of parchment in front of Harry and tousled his hair.

"I wah bar'y ow' for twummy mints," Harry exclaimed, spraying corned beef bits across the table.

"Charming," Ginny muttered, pulling a tuft of his hair. He grabbed her hand and kissed it. "Eww, i don't want your corned beef cooties!" she squealed, pulling her arm away.

Harry swallowed his sandwich bite and laughed. Ginny set about making a turkey sandwich while Harry picked up the parchment. He saw the purple wax Ministry seal and said, "Must be from Kingsley. He said he'd be in touch with me." He unfurled the letter and quickly scanned Kingsley's brief request for Harry to meet with him the following morning, at nine a.m.

"What's it say?" Ginny asked, sitting down across from Harry and nicking one of his crisps.

"He wants me to come to the Ministry tomorrow morning," Harry answered, playfully swatting her hand away as she moved in for another crisp. "Wants to talk over a few options for my future. He had said in McGonagall's office that he'd be getting in touch after things settled down." He set the parchment down and watched as two more crisps disappeared from his plate. "You know, there is a whole bowl full of them on the counter, right over there," Harry jokingly chided.

"Yes, but I can reach yours," Ginny replied, popping another into her mouth. "I can't legally magic those over here for another few weeks."

"When has the legality of something ever gotten in your way," Harry laughed. He pointed his wand at the counter and called, " _Accio_ crisps."

The bowl zoomed across the kitchen and landed in front of Ginny. She grinned at Harry and tossed a crisp at him.

"I can't win," Harry muttered, picking his sandwich back up. He and Ginny finished their lunch in a pleasant silence and had just started to clean up when the back door opened and two distinct gasps echoed over the tile. Ginny and Harry looked up to see Ron and Hermione standing at the threshold, contemplating their next move. To say they looked slightly disheveled was a vast understatement.

Harry resisted the urge to laugh, put down his plate, and pulled Ginny to his side. She looked at Ron and Hermione with a devilish smirk as Harry forced his face and voice into seriousness and asked, "Where, may I ask, have you two been?"

"Out," Ron replied, his voice an active higher than normal. Hermione looked horrified, eyes wide and biting her bottom lip. She desperately reached up and tried to smooth her hair.

"Out?" Harry questioned further. "You sneak out of here, no note, no reassuring owl, nothing! You're out for hours on end and we're just supposed to accept 'Out' as justification?" Ginny buried her face into Harry's side, trying, unsuccessfully, not to laugh.

"Sod off mate," Ron groaned. He tugged Hermione's hand and started heading for the stairs.

"I'm going to go pack," Hermione attempted to explain, as Ron pulled her through the kitchen.

"Is that what the kids are calling it these days?" Harry teased. Ginny slapped his side, giving up on hiding her laughter. Without looking back, Ron offered up a rude hand gesture and started to climb the stairs. "Seriously though, mate," Harry called,

Ron stopped, turned around and shouted, "What?!"

"Where's your left shoe?"

Ron looked down and his face suddenly matched his hair. "Dammit," he muttered.

"Oh, Ronald…"Hermione moaned, pushing him to continue up the staircase.

Harry opened his mouth to make another cheeky comment, but Ginny's hand clamped over it before he could utter a syllable. He glanced down at her face, alight with laughter and eyes glistening with tears.

"Let them enjoy their moment," she giggled. Harry narrowed his eyes at her and licked her palm. "Ewww!" Ginny squealed, giving him a shove.

Harry caught her arms and pulled her against him, letting his arms wrap around her waist. She relaxed and laid her head on his chest as he nuzzled her hair with his nose. "I prefer to enjoy this moment," he murmured in her ear. Ginny looked up into his eyes, her laughter finally faded, and pulled his head towards hers, parting her lips ever so slightly. Harry closed his eyes and leaned down, feeling her breath on his face…

A sudden cough caused them both to startle and crack foreheads. Harry looked over Ginny's shoulder and saw Arthur, holding groceries in one arm and making a slashing motion across his throat with the other. In front of him stood Molly, arms crossed over her chest. Her mouth was set in a firm line, and her usually mellow brown eyes were ablaze. Harry dropped his hands to his side immediately and stood up straight.

"I hate to interrupt this portrait worthy moment," Molly huffed, "But in the middle of _my_ kitchen? Honestly!" Molly snatched the sack of groceries from Arthur and stalked over to the counter to unpack them. "At least Ron and Hermione have the good sense to _attempt_ to hide their snogging."

"Sorry Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, sheepishly.

Molly turned and walked over to Harry, smiled, and placed her hand on his cheek. "I love that you make our daughter happy," she said, patting his cheek. "Just not in _my_ kitchen." Her last pat was unexpectedly firm and she walked back to the counter, leaving Harry rubbing his face. Ginny watched her mother, mouth agape in surprise.

"May I muck out the chicken, as way of apology?" Harry asked, quickly reaching around and gently lifting Ginny's chin to close her mouth.

"Don't you try that Potter charm on me, young man," Molly laughed, as she pulled carrots out of her bag. She looked over her shoulder and said, with a wink, "That would be most helpful though, dear. Thank you. Andromeda and Teddy should be here around five-thirty for dinner.

Harry doffed an imaginary cap and gave Ginny's hip a light squeeze. He turned to Arthur, who had sat down at the table to peruse the Sunday Prophet.

"Mr. Weasley," Harry prompted. Arthur looked up and smiled. "The minister sent an owl earlier, asking for me to meet with him tomorrow morning. Will it be okay if I head into the Ministry with you tomorrow?"

"Of course Harry. Hermione is coming along, also, to catch the first of her international portkeys. We'll be heading in around 8."

"Thanks." Harry made his way out to the back garden. He traded his trainers for a pair of old Wellingtons, and headed to the coop. He spent a rather hot hour mucking out chicken droppings, mending broken caging, collecting eggs, and feeding the birds before heading back to the house. He kicked off the boots and made a beeline up the stairs, for the shower. By the time he made it to his room, he had just enough energy to throw on a pair of boxers and an undershirt, before he toppled onto the bed and succumb to sleep.

A sudden knock on his door made him bolt up. It felt like it had been two minutes, but the clock on the nightstand made it clear that Harry had been asleep for almost two hours. Harry stumbled to the door and opened it. Ginny stood on the other side, wearing one of her mother's aprons and a look of surprise. It took Harry a second to to remember what he was wearing. He turned around, searching the room for his robe. He bent over and started rifling through a pile of dirty clothes.

"Ooh," Ginny gasped. Harry quickly stood up and saw Ginny had gone red in the face and was looking up the hallway. "Mum sent me to find you. Andromeda and Teddy are here, and Mum says dinner is in ten, with or without you."

"Er, yeah, thanks. I'll be down in five."

Ginny gave him a little wave and quickly shut the door. Harry blew out a sigh and ran his hands through his hair. He heard a gentle thump on the other side of the door and a distinct giggle.

Harry smiled and walked over the door, "I can hear you, you know," he called.

The giggling stopped instantly and Harry heard Ginny mutter, "Shit," before she retreated down the steps.

Harry sifted through his meager clothing collection, trying to find something that wasn't battered, burned, or bedraggled. He finally settle on an old pair of jeans that were faded, but had no holes, and blue button up shirt. Deeming himself at least half decent, he headed down for dinner.

He found the kitchen empty. A collection of voices could be heard in the back garden. He walked out the back door and saw that the Weasley's two huge picnic tables had been pushed together. He had just been expecting Andromeda and Teddy, and they were there, sitting at the end of one table, beside Hermione, who was gushing over the baby. Harry looked around and saw that Bill, Fleur, Charlie, George, Luna Lovegood, and her father, Xenophilous, had also turned up for dinner.

"Mum invited them all to see Hermione off," said a voice beside Harry that made him jump. He looked to his right and saw Ginny holding a stack of plates, with cutlery on top. She caught his eye and red spots appeared on her cheeks.

"Did my eyes deceive me, or was that treacle tart I spied on my way out?" Harry said, trying to lighten the tension. He could see her relax a little as she nodded. He took the top half of plates from her, kissed her forehead, and went to start setting the places.

After his supply of plates was exhausted, he took a seat across from Andromeda. Hermione was holding Teddy and cooing incomprehensible baby talk, as the infant stared up at her, spittle dribbling from his lips. Beside her, Ron looked on with a slightly uneasy expression.

"Hello Harry," Andromeda greeted. "Ron and Hermione were just telling me that you three will get to return to Hogwarts this year. You must be so excited!"

"What? Oh, yeah, of course. It's great." Harry said quickly. He summoned a bottle of Butterbeer and took a long pull from it.

"What's great?" Ginny interjected, sitting down on the bench beside Harry.

"Going back to Hogwarts," Hermione answered, not taking her eyes off the baby.

Ginny beamed at Harry and grabbed his hand. "I'm so happy McGonagall is letting you all come back," she gushed. "Luna was just telling me how she plans on returning, and Neville had wrote to her saying that he was coming back too. It'll be just like it used to be. Well, almost," she concluded, looking guiltily down the table at George.

Harry watched with her for a moment as George pulled at the label on his bottle, half heartedly nodding along to whatever Charlie was talking about. He had been back to work at the Wizarding Wheezes shop for a week now. The day before George reopened the shop, Lee Jordan had come in to apologize for bailing on the funeral. Apparently though, before Lee could get one word out, George sucker punched him, knocking Lee out cold. Once he came round, George let Lee explain that the day of the funeral Lee had had a nervous breakdown at the thought of burying his best friend and couldn't summon the courage to go to the cemetery. George still wasn't happy, but they called a civil truce and Lee had started helping him out in the shop.

Harry turned back to Andromeda and tried to smile, but knew it came out more of a grimace. "Yeah, just like old times," Harry muttered. Andromeda seemed to catch Harry's tone, though it was lost to the others amidst the baby and reminiscing. She gave him an understanding smile and didn't press the subject anymore.

After numerous helpings of steak and kidney pie, roast potatoes, and yorkshire pudding, Harry volunteered to clear up and bring out the dessert. Before Ginny could offer to help, Andromeda stood up and started gathering plates and cutlery. She followed Harry into the kitchen and placed her stack in the sink. With a wave of her wand, the sink filled with hot, soapy water and the brush sprung to life, scrubbing the plates. Harry got a stack of dessert plates from the cupboard and turn around to find Andromeda staring at him.

"You don't want to go back to school do you?" she asked softly. Harry started into his rehearsed protest, but she held up her hand and he stopped. "It's okay Harry, you don't have to pretend with me. I could hear it in your voice, during dinner- wanting very much to move on with your life, but feeling an even greater need to not hurt your friends."

Harry sighed and set the plates down. "It's exactly that," he groaned, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. "I don't want to go back to Hogwarts. As much as I love and treasure the place, I just can't face it. I need something more. I want to, as you said, to move on with my life." Harry frowned and looked out the window at his friends. "I just feel like it I tell them that, they'll feel like I'm trying to move on without them. And if there's one thing I have learned in these last seven years, it's that I _need_ them in my life."

Andromeda laughed and reached over to give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "I'm certain that you have learned much more than that in the last seven years. Which is why I'm confident you'll figure out how to go about getting what you want." She followed Harry's gaze out the window. "As for your friends, they've stuck by you through so much, I think you'll find it hard to drive them away now." Tears stung Harry's eyes as he looked at her. She smiled warmly and hugged him tight. "I'm so grateful that Dora and Remus chose you as Teddy's godfather. In the absence of his parents, I couldn't ask for a better man for him to look up to."

"I'll try to make them proud," Harry whispered, as his throat tightened and more tears spilled.

Andromeda laughed and patted his shoulders. "You already have, dear."

"Oi, Potter!" Ron's voice boomed. "Where's my bloody pudding?"

Harry laughed as he swiped the tears off his face and grabbed the stack of plates. Andromeda summoned the treacle tart and led him back out the garden. Thankful that the sun had sunk low enough to hide his red eyes, Harry passed out plates and settled back into his seat. He was immediately greeted with Hermione plunking little Teddy into his arms. Harry cuddled the infant, and stuffed himself with treacle tart, until the daylight surrendered to dusk. As the stars started to take center stage. Andromeda gently stole back the sleeping baby, and promised another visit in the near future, before departing. Ginny nestled sleepily into his side and Harry wrapped his arm around her shoulder, content with his place in life, for the moment.


	4. Chapter 4

" _You think you're a worthy match for my skill and power," Voldemort snarled._

 _Harry said nothing. He concentrated on the keeping connection between the two wands, using all his strength to control his own spell and not crack under the killing curse._

" _Give up Harry Potter." Voldemort's harsh whisper made Harry dig deeper. "Your friends have abandoned you. There is nowhere left to run"_

 _Harry chanced a quick look around and was shocked to see that he was alone. A sharp whistle made his stomach lurch._

" _You have reached the end of the track," the Dark Lord cackled._

 _In terror, Harry looked at his feet and saw he standing on a set of train tracks. Another whistle made him look over his shoulder to see the scarlet engine of the Hogwarts Express barreling towards him. A sudden lightness in his hand wrenched his head back forward. Voldemort had broken the spell._

" _You lose, Harry potter," he hissed, just before disappearing in a spiraling cloud of black smoke._

 _The train whistled again, growing louder by the second. Harry tried to spin and disapparate, but he feet remained rooted to the tracks. Another earsplitting whistle. Harry braced himself for the impact…._

Harry gasped and his eyes shot open. He took a second to stare at the ceiling and remind himself of where he was. There was no train whistling it's eminent approach. It was, in fact, the alarm clock he had set for six a.m. After a few valiant swings, he finally made contact with the clock and it fell silent. He laid in bed for another few minutes, calming his ragged breathing. Finally, at six-fifteen, Harry sat up, wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, and made his way to the bathroom.

On his very first visit to the Weasley home, all those years ago, he learned that the early wizard got the bathroom. He was pleased to find the bathroom open and empty. He spent a few extra minutes in the warm shower, trying to wash away the anxiety of his latest nightmare. It had taken him over an hour to drift off the night before, but Harry's sleep was anything but peaceful. His dreams were filled with dark memories, mingling with a fear of abandonment from his friends.

Harry knew he should come clean with his friends about how he was feeling about returning to Hogwarts and just clear his conscience. But he was worried about creating any tension between them and making the upcoming year harder than it had to be. If he had to return to the former battlefield, he knew he would need his friends' support.

Above all, he was finally getting to have the relationship with Ginny that he had been longing for, and fearing he may never get, the past year. He didn't want his anxiety to make her feel unwanted and ultimately drive her away. He turned off the taps and resolved that the battle in his mind was one that he would have to fight on his own. At least for now.

As Harry was halfway through shaving, someone pounded on the bathroom door and made him nick his chin. He cursed loudly as bright red blood trickled into the sink.

"Sorry Harry, but are you soon finished?" Hermione called.

"Just a minute," Harry grumbled. He stuck a piece of toilet paper on his cut and hurried through the rest of his shave, nicking himself several more times in his haste. By the time he opened the door, half his face was covered in bathroom tissue and he locked Hermione in a death stare.

"Oh Harry, I'm so sorry…" she whispered, reaching out to fix a piece of tissue by his ear.

"It's alright," Harry muttered, gently pushing her hand away. "All yours," he said motioning to the bathroom. He left her on the landing and hurried down to his bedroom. He wanted to make sure he had a chance to grab a bite to eat before heading into the ministry.

Harry took his freshly pressed dress robes from the closet and pulled them on. After straightening out his collar, he dashed downstairs and was welcomed by the sight of sausages, eggs, and toast. Ginny was helping Molly set out the last few plates and mugs. When she caught sight of Harry's face, she let out a little gasp, and then a giggle.

"Did you let a gnome shave your face?" she asked, gingerly pulling some of the tissue from his face.

"Unexpected interruption," he mumbled. He fell into a chair and turned to Molly. "Mrs. Weasley, do you think you could fix my face?"

"Gonna take a lot more than magic for that mate," Ron teased, nabbing a sausage from the plate. He looked down at Harry and his smile faded. "Bloody hell Harry. First time with a razor?"

"Shush," Molly admonished, slapping Ron's shoulder. She held up her wand and warned, "Don't move now, dear." Molly pointed her wand at the cuts and muttered, "Tergeo." Harry felt the tissue and dried blood disappear. One by one, Molly hovered over each cut and mended them with a curt, "Episkey."

"Thanks," Harry breathed and he tucked into a plate full of sausage and eggs. Hermione joined them ten minutes later, carrying her enchanted beaded bag. She attempted another apology to Harry, but he waved her off. "Nothing a few quick spells couldn't heal."

"I finally unpacked the rest of your's and Ron's things from my bag," Hermione informed, piling eggs onto her plate. "Your things are all in a pile in the corner of Ron's room," she said to Harry. He nodded, unable to speak around his toast. "I don't know what to do with the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black though. For the moment I stuck it in the attic, so that Ron wouldn't feel like he was being watched."

"Much appreciated sweetheart," Ron commended.

Hermione blushed and continued on, "I wasn't sure if you had any plans to go back to Grimmauld place, but I certainly wasn't going to be taking him along to Australia."

Harry shook his head and swallowed. "I don't have any desire to return there. At the moment, Kreacher seems happy-" Ron interrupted with a laugh and Harry smiled before continuing," happy _enough_ in the Hogwarts kitchens. I'll talk to Kingsley today about what I can do with the property. It's not exactly full of cheerful memories that I want to save. I'm hoping some highly skilled wizards can go in and clean it out so that maybe I can sell it and be done with it."

"Fair enough," Hermione agreed, spreading jam onto a slice of toast. She turned to Ron and said, "Our owls from Hogwarts should be arriving next week. Please don't forget to send back my reply with yours." She grabbed his hand and gave him a pleading look.

"Don't worry, I will," Ron said, focusing on cutting up his third sausage.

"I already wrote it out-" Hermione started.

"And put it on my desk," Ron finished, still not looking up from his plate.

"Yes," Hermione said, clearly becoming annoyed. "All you have to do-"

"Is send it along with my reply," Ron continued, stuffing a piece of sausage in his mouth.

Hermione growled and tossed Ron's hand away. "I'm going to be away for weeks! You could at least pretend like you'll miss me for heaven's sake!"

Ron finally looked up, turned Hermione's face back to his, and said, "Of course I'm going to miss you," and kissed her lips. "I'm pretty sure I've already made that clear."

Hermione sniffled and nodded her head as a little sob escaped her throat. Unable to speak, she leaned in and kissed Ron again.

"Hey now," Harry called, poking Ron with his fork. "Some of us are still trying to eat. That's what the pond is for."

Ginny gave Harry a whack on the shoulder and laughed, "Leave them alone."

Their kiss was promptly interrupted, though, by Arthur's entrance. "Right, now," Arthur said, slapping the back of Ron's head with the morning paper. "Are we ready?" he asked, looking between Harry and Hermione.

Harry nodded, as he shoved a final bit of toast into his mouth and gulped the last of his tea. Hermione gave Ron one last kiss, before standing up and throwing her bag over her shoulder. Harry kissed the top of Ginny's head, who had just sat down to eat her own breakfast.

"When will you be back?" she asked.

"Um, not sure exactly," Harry answered. "I imagine it should only take an hour, so probably by lunchtime." Ginny nodded and Harry hurried over to the fireplace.

"Ladies first," Arthur said, motioning for Hermione to step up.

With one last little wave to Ron, Hermione stepped into the hearth and and called out, "Ministry of Magic!" A second later, she was gone and Ron slumped in his chair, frowning.

Harry stepped into the hearth next and quickly joined Hermione in the Ministry's atrium. It had been just under a year since they were there last, under the disguise of polyjuice potion, in a successful bid to get the locket horcrux. Harry looked around and was pleased to see that the former statue, depicting wizards conquering muggles, had been replaced. In it's spot stood a large, circular fountain. Soaring out of the center was a shimmering, multi-hued phoenix, with multiple water jets gushing up around it. Harry and Hermione walked over together and upon closer inspection, discovered that all along the marble fountain wall were inscribed the names of those lost during not only the second war, but also the first.

Harry and Hermione toured the perimeter of the fountain, silently pointing out familiar names to each other. Harry lingered at the names of his parents and let his fingers glide over their inscriptions. As they came back around to their starting point, they were met by Arthur.

"They just put the finishing touches on it last week," he explained, looking up at the phoenix.

Harry suddenly recalled the first fountain that had been there, even before the grotesque statue. "Mr Weasley, does the money thrown in still get donated to St. Mungos?" Harry asked.

"It's actually being split for the time being. Some will go to St. Mungos, the rest will go to helping families that need assistance in rebuilding from the war," Arthur explained.

Harry dug into the pocket of his robes and pulled out a handful of galleons. He tossed them all into the fountain and Hermione followed suit. The sudden splashing turned the heads of a few passing wizards. When they saw the cause of the noise, they nodded and smiled at Harry and Hermione, before continuing on.

"Come along now," Arthur called. "Hate for you two to be late." He started striding towards the lifts.

"So what do you think Kingsley wants to discuss with you?" Hermione asked, as they followed behind Arthur.

"All he said back in McGonagall's office was that he wanted to go over options for my future," Harry answered. "Considering we'll be returning to Hogwarts, I assume he talk about possible security at the castle."

"You don't think he'll offer you a job?"

Harry shook his head as they stopped at the bank of lifts. "What sort of job would I be qualified for? I've only completed six years of school-"

"And destroyed a powerful dark wizard, essentially saving the world," Hermione interrupted.

Harry rolled his eyes as a lift clattered open. They shuffled into it with Arthur and a few other purple robed wizards and witches.

"As impressive as that might be, there's still the fact that I'm lacking an entire year of school and have no N.E.W.T.s under my belt," Harry continued as the lift rocketed downwards.

A sudden stop and an airy voice signaled that they had reached level two. Arthur gave them a gentle prod, and Hermione and Harry staggered out. They followed Arthur down a long corridor, to a small waiting area at the end. A petite witch, with long brunette waves flowing over her shoulders and and bright orange glasses framing her ocean blue eyes, was perched at a desk, dictating a memo.

"Morning Marissa," Arthur greeted. Marissa stopped talking, causing her quill to hover over the parchment. She looked up at Arthur and smiled. Harry noticed small piercings in her nose and left eyebrow.

"Hello Mr. Weasley!" Marissa chirped. She pick up a stack of parchments from a tray and passed them to Arthur.

"Thank you, dear," Arthur said, tucking the stack under his arm. "Could I bother you for two quick favors?"

"It's what I'm here for, sir," Marissa smiled, showing off what looked like a hundred, sparkling white teeth.

"Could you get send a quick message to the International Relations department and let them know Hermione Granger has arrived with me," Arthur instructed, motioning to Hermione. Marissa nodded, scribbled out a quick note on purple parchment, and tapped it with her wand. The parchment instantly folded into an airplane and zoomed off. She looked back at Arthur, poised to write the next note. "Please let the Minister know, that Harry Potter is in my office and to send for him whenever the Minister is ready."

Marissa looked up at Harry and looked him over, an unsettling hungry look glowing in her blue eyes. Harry quickly looked down at his feet as she hastily wrote out the second message. When Harry heard it zoom off, up the corridor, he looked back up. Marissa was staring at him, seductively running the end of her quill across her cherry red lips. Harry swallowed hard and tried to make a break for the sanctuary of Arthur's office. Marissa was quick and caught his wrist.

"I'm done here at four," she purred. "Meet me for a drink after?"

"Er…no…that's, uh….kind of you, but…" Harry stammered, trying to form a cohesive sentence.

"Spoken for, thank you," Hermione trilled, shoving Harry towards the office door.

"If you're ever unspoken for, you know where to find me," Marissa called, sweetly.

"She wasn't very subtle," Hermione exclaimed, closing the door.

"Thanks for the save," Harry groaned, sinking into a chair in front of Arthur's desk.

"I don't put it past her to slip a love potion into some poor, unsuspecting bloke's gin and tonic," Hermione said snidely, sitting in the chair beside Harry.

Harry glanced around the office. It was the first he had been to the Ministry, with Arthur since his promotion. The new office was sizably bigger than his former one. He actually had room for more than one guest to sit comfortably, without having to dislocate joints. The walls were still filled with various instruction pamphlets on electronic muggle items. Harry noticed on the wall, next to the door, hung a huge, framed grid outlining the electrical wiring for the West Minster Abbey. Harry chuckled and turned back to Arthur, who had started sifting through his pile of mail.

"You wouldn't believe the amount of reports we've been receiving about suspected dark objects," Arthur muttered. "All of Britain's wizards on on edge and paranoid about anything and everything they don't recognize. It's understandable of course," he continued looking up. "But it sure makes for a lot of extra, usually unnecessary work. Last week, two of my staff got called off to Cornwall to inspect a demonic, singing brick."

Harry gave Arthur a perplexed look, but Hermione smiled, like she knew where he was leading with the story.

"They get there and it turns out a muggle child had left his casted…castled…kitset?" He looked to Hermione for help.

"Cassette," she supplied.

"That's it, cassette player," Arthur continued. "He had left his cassette player in the park. When the informing wizard attempted to cast a spell on it, a stupid choice in the first place, it started blasting that hefty medal music."

"Heavy metal," Hermione corrected with a laugh.

"The ministry has sent instructions to everyone in the country to keep their distance from anything they think might have been possessed by dark magic and inform us straight away, but some will never listen. Which is how you get your fingers cursed off like poor Paul Gerkins," Arthur sighed.

The ethereal voice of Marissa announced, "Gemma Mosely and Elaine Johnson have arrived for Miss Hermione Granger."

Harry stood up, but didn't make a move for the door. "I'm gonna say good-bye here," he said, opening his arms for a hug. "I'd like to not have to go back out there until I have to."

Hermione laughed and wrapped him in a tight hug. "Keep Ron in line until I return."

"Unlikely, but I'll give it a go."

"Send me an owl every now and then. Keep me in the loop, because Merlin knows he won't," Hermione scoffed, picking up her bag.

"I'll make sure the git writes you at least once a week. Go now, you don't want to miss your first portkey," Harry urged. "Make sure you write when you can, let us know how the search goes."

Hermione nodded, waved, and scurried out the door.

Harry settled back in his chair and picked up the morning Daily Prophet. He was relieved to see his name mentioned only once, though annoyed to see it was in a Rita Skeeter article, questioning Harry's sanity and what he would do next. What annoyed him most is that he and the gossip journalist shared the same sentiments. He tossed the paper aside and started walking around, inspecting Arthur's posters.

Arthur returned and continued to sort through his mail, every now and then sending a purple memo whizzing out the door. At quarter 'til nine, there was a knock on the office door.

"Come in," Arthur called.

The door opened and Kingsley Shacklebolt strode in. "Morning Arthur," he greeted. "Harry, nice to see you again, as always," he said with a smile, extending his hand.

"Good morning Minister," Harry replied, shaking Kingsley's hand.

Kingsley laughed and it reminded Harry of rolling thunder. "Please, Harry, none of this Minister frivolity. I think we're quite past formalities. I beg you, call me Kingsley." His immense hand clapped Harry's shoulder and he turned back to Arthur. "I've connected my fireplace to your house Arthur, so you don't have to worry about getting him home."

Arthur nodded and gave Harry a wave. "See you for dinner then," he said.

Harry waved and followed Kingsley out the door.

"See ya 'round handsome," Marissa cooed, causing Harry to quicken his pace and stare straight ahead as he hastened up the corridor.

Kingsley's office was on the seventh level and easily as large as the Gryffindor dormitory. The entire west wall was lined with a bookshelf, crammed full of ancient looking, leather bound books. A large globe stood next to a massive, dark oak desk. The east wall hosted several ceiling high filing cabinets, three cages- each housing a large, tawny barn owl, and portraits of former ministers. Lush, purple carpet covered the entire floor and when Harry crossed the room, it felt like he was walking on a blanket of marshmallows. Kingsley gracefully slid into the leather seat behind his desk, and motioned for Harry to occupy the identical one across from him.

"Sir, before we start planning my future, I wanted to quickly ask you about another matter," Harry said, taking his seat. Kingsley nodded and Harry proceeded. "I don't want Grimmauld Place, what can I do with it?" he blurted out.

Kingsley chuckled and nodded. "If I remember right, the Black family did a pretty good job at setting up shop in there. I'm sure Ron still has the occasional nightmare of murderous robes." Harry snorted and nodded in agreement. "I'll send some of my top staff out there in the next week or so to see what we can do about clearing out some of the more stubborn occupants. Should we worry about the house elf?"

"No, he's been at Hogwarts the last year. The only one that'll give you grief is Mrs. Black."

Kingsley nodded and made a note on the subject. "We'll get it sorted out and I can't imagine you'll have much trouble selling it." Kingsley pulled a stack of parchments from the top drawer of his desk and started rifling through them. "Another side note, before we get to the meat and potatoes of our meeting. I got word from Dedalus Diggle that your family was returned to their home on Privet Drive, after an extensive search of the house to ensure their safety of course."

"Oh," Harry said, slightly startled. He hadn't really given much thought about his aunt, uncle, or cousin since leaving Privet Drive. "Um, thanks. That's good news, I suppose."

Kingsley gave a low chuckle and pulled out the parchment he had been searching for. "Now, Mr. Potter, let's talk shop. Minerva informed me that your career goal in fifth and sixth year was to become an Auror. Is this something you're still interested in?"

Harry sat up a bit straighter and answered, "Yes, it's the only thing I've really ever seen myself pursuing after school."

"Excellent," Kingsley leaned forward and continued on. "And she informed you that, if you wish, you could return to school and complete your seventh year?"

"Yeah," Harry replied, his face falling slightly.

"I don't sense that you wish to return though," Kingsley pressed, his dark eyes seeing straight into Harry's mind. Harry shook his head. "I completely understand, son. And to be honest, I think you would regret wasting a whole year doing something you don't have to. Most seventh year tasks would be beneath your current skill level. That is why I'd like you to consider these other two options I have for you."

"First, if you would like, we can enroll you in our own Auror training program." Kingsley passed Harry a brochure for the A.I.G.B- Auror Institute of Great Britain. Kingsley continued as Harry studied the cover. "You would move to London and undergo our extensive training regimen. It would last three years and afterwards, given that you've satisfactorily passed all your courses, you'll be invited into the Ministry as an Auror Apprentice."

"But, sir, I haven't sat a single N.E.W.T. How could I possibly be accepted into the program without passing my exams?" Harry asked, placing the brochure on his lap.

"My dear boy," Kingsley laughed. "You have delved deeper into the the dark arts than any of our top Aurors, and still managed to come out as pure as the day you stepped through the doors of Hogwarts. I don't believe any test is going to prove to us something we haven't already seen."

Harry shifted awkwardly in his chair. He flipped through the brochure quickly before commenting, "You mentioned a second option?"

"Yes," Kingsley pulled a thick magazine from the bottom of his parchment pile. "I started thinking, 'If I was Harry Potter, what would my greatest wish be at the moment?' After much thought, I landed on anonymity," he said slowly, handing Harry the magazine.

Across the top, in gold, block letters, was emblazoned A.A.A. Under that, in smaller font, Harry read _Auror Academy of America._

"America?" Harry muttered. He looked up at Kingsley, puzzled. "You want to send me to America?"

"I pulled a few strings and was able to secure one of the last coveted spots in their program. Their program lasts four years, but we would only require you to spend one year there, studying the general aspects of the job. The basics of the Auror field is universal. After the first year, you would be able to come back and complete your final two years in London. Of course, if you find America to your liking, you could enroll in their full program and complete all of your training there."

Kingsley studied Harry as he paged through the magazine. It was filled with colorful landscapes, showing off each of the country's three campuses. Pictures of administrators and professors boasting about the high end facilities and hands on training students would enjoy.

"They have three schools?" Harry asked, finally looking up from the magazine.

Kingsley motioned to his globe and spun it to the United States. "As you can see, their country is considerably larger than ours. The have three schools, to accommodate each region. There is one in Roanoke, Virginia," Kingsley said, pointing to the country's east coast. "Another is in Austin, Texas." His finger moved to the south. "And the final one is located in Los Angeles, California." His finger landed on the western coast. Kingsley sat back down and continued to watch Harry.

Harry sat back down, his eyes lingering on the globe. "What did you mean by anonymity?"

"Ahh, well, I just got the sense that you are a rather private person. Not entirely comfortable being in the spotlight, if you can help it."

"It's definitely not my favorite past time," Harry confirmed.

"News of our war didn't make many ripples in the States. I'm quite certain that you would be able to go there and nobody would bat an eye over you. You would have the chance to blend in with the rest of the students."

Harry's heart soared at the thought. He had never been able to just blend in with the crowd. Even when he lived on Privet Drive and attended the muggle school, he was always Dudley's scrawny cousin that everyone rejoiced in pushing around. The chance to be _just Harry_ was a dream come true.

"Which campus would I be attending?" Harry asked, moving to the edge of his seat.

"The slot I was able to secure for you is at the school in Los Angeles, California."

Harry quickly flipped to the Los Angeles section of the magazine and sat in awe. Scenes full of sunshine, palm trees, and endless beaches bombarded his eyes. He had never been anywhere like that in his life. A few times Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had taken Dudley to Blackpool for a weekend getaway, but he had always been left behind with their neighbor, Mrs. Figg.

"I don't need your answer right away-"

"America!" Harry exclaimed. "I want to go to America"

Kingsley sat stunned for a second and then replied, "You have time to think about it. Take all this information home and mull it over with the family."

"I don't need to mull it over," Harry insisted. "This is an opportunity I never knew I wanted so bad. I have to take it."

"Are you sure?" Kingsley asked, slowly.

"Yes," Harry said firmly, looking Kingsley in the eye.

"Ok then." Kingsley pulled two more pieces of parchment from the pile and handed them to Harry. "The top form is your official application. Don't worry, you're spot won't be given away. This will just go in your school file. The second form is for your medical information. You'll need to visit St. Mungos and get a complete physical examination."

"Brilliant! I'll fill these out and get them back right away," Harry said, unable to hide the excitement in his voice.

"The Ministry will pay for your first year of tuition and books, room and board included. There's a cafeteria on campus that can accommodate you for all your meals. Should you choose to stay in America, the final three years of tuition will be your responsibility If you choose to come back to London, though, I will make sure you have a spot waiting for you at our school." Kingsley stood up and placed the remaining parchment back in his top desk drawer. "Their term starts on the either of September."

"Eighth?" Harry questioned, standing up. "Isn't that a bit late?"

"Americans celebrate a holiday called Labour Day. That first Monday of the month is like a bank holiday, so their term begins the following Tuesday." Kingsley escorted him to the fireplace, in the back corner of the office. "I'll be in touch over the next two months, keeping you updated on your travel accommodations and course schedules as it all comes together."

"Thank you so much, Kingsley," Harry said, shaking the Minister's hand as he stepped into the fireplace. "I really appreciate this."

"My pleasure, Harry. Take care now."

Harry smiled madly as he dropped the floo powder and shouted, "The Burrow!"

His excitement lasted for all of three seconds as the kitchen spun into view and he saw Ron and Ginny sitting at the table, looking at him expectantly.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N- Hey guys! Just wanted to tag on a little note to this chapter. A few of you have been following this story on SIYE and recognized it right away. I wanted to reassure everyone that I'm the original author. I wanted to revisit this story and post it on one or 2 other sites to broaden the readership. Also, I'm hoping that this helps gives me incentive to finally finish the chapter that I've been stuck on for ages! If you follow my other stories, I'm also trying to keep up with those and hopefully will have All Bets Are Off updated soon. At the moment we have a little one on the way, with two other little wizards running around, so that takes a hit to energy and time. Thanks for everyone that has been following and reviewing though, and extra thanks for all the patience as I work on the updates!-

Harry slowly climbed out of the fireplace, desperately trying to figuring out how to hide the magazine and forms in his hand.

"Just in time for lunch, mate," Ron said, his voice thick with leftover steak and kidney pie.

"Great! Just let me go change," Harry said, with almost too much enthusiasm. He tried to make a dash for the steps.

"Wait a minute, Harry," Ginny challenged. She grabbed his arm and pulled him back. "What have you got?"

"Nothing really," Harry rushed, trying his best to summon a speck courage and meet her imploring gaze. Harry's desperation was lost on Ron, but Ginny had inherited her mother's keen sense of knowing when someone was withholding information.

"Then what's the harm if I take a look at nothing?" Ginny said, snatching the stuff from Harry's hand. Harry nervously ran his hand through his hair as her eyes scanned the magazine cover. Her face went white and her voice trembled as she asked, "America? Harry, why do you have this?"

Ron dropped his fork and stood up to peer over Ginny's shoulder. He shot a puzzling look at Harry, waiting for an explanation.

Harry's head whipped back and forth, praying that Molly hadn't been in earshot. He finally looked Ginny in the eye and pleaded, "Can we talk about this outside?" He gently grabbed her hand and urged her towards the back door. She hesitated at first, pulling her hand away. "Please, Ginny," Harry whispered.

"Come on," Ron muttered, nudging Ginny's back. She conceded and followed Harry out to one of the picnic tables. Harry sat down. Ron and Ginny slid onto the bench in front of him, Ginny tossing the magazine on the table. Harry cringed as it landed with a thud. "What's this about?"

Harry took a deep breath and said, "The meeting with Kingsley went in a totally different direction than I expected." He launched into telling them about his discussion with the Minister, detailing all the options that Kingsley had given him.

"Oh," Ron said, his expression lightening after Harry had finished going over the American academy. "So, this is just some reading material for you. You've still got plenty of time to decide."

Ginny just kept staring at Harry and it became unbearable. Harry placed his head in his hands, trying to figure out how to say what was already obvious to her.

"You already decided, haven't you?" Ginny whispered, tears welling up in her eyes.

"No," Ron laughed. He glanced at Ginny, tears falling down her cheeks, and across to Harry, who couldn't pull his head out of his hands. "Harry, you didn't decide yet, did you?"

Harry blew out the breath he had been holding and finally looked up. "Yeah, I have," Harry quavered.

"But, what about Hogwarts?" Ron protested. "We were all supposed to be going back together."

"I'm sorry, I can't go back there. Not right now," Harry admitted. He turned to Ginny, silently imploring her to say something more. "I'm so sorry," he croaked, his throat slowly closing as he tried his best not to cry.

Ginny said nothing. Ron's face grew red and he jumped to his feet. "So what, now that everything's over we're not good enough for you?" he yelled. "Are we just a way station on your way to bigger and better things?"

"Ron, please! It's not like that at all," Harry started. He tried to explain what he had been feeling the past weeks. "When I think about going back to the castle, it..it…it feels as though I'm going to suffocate. There are too many memories haunting me…..literally haunting my dreams! I'm living in my own personal hell, every night. And going back is only going to make it worse."

"Do you think it's been easy for us?" Ron shouted, slamming his hand on the table. "You think I fall asleep dreaming of kittens and bloody rainbows?"

"Don't start putting words into my mouth," Harry threatened, rising to his feet. "And by the way, no one's forcing you to go back!"

"And what exactly am I going to do if I don't? I don't have a bleedin' scar on my forehead, opening doors for me everywhere I turn, do I now?"

"But that's the point," Harry cried, exasperated. "I don't want that! I want to go somewhere that when I tell them my name, their eyes don't dart right to my 'effing head! I don't want to pick up a bloody paper and wonder what sort of rubbish they're trying to make up about me. I just…just…I just want to be bloody normal. For just one, brief moment, I want to know what it's like to not have my sanity question, or abilities doubted, or have every little damn aspect of my life picked apart!"

Harry crumpled back onto the bench, breathing heavy. He looked up at Ron and said, meekly, "That's it. That's where I am at the moment."

Ron glared at Harry, silent and expressionless. Finally, his shoulders slumped and he muttered, "Whatever," and stalked back into the house.

Harry turned to Ginny and reached out to take her hands. She quickly pulled them to her side and stood up, as if she had just been offered an acromantula.

"Ginny, I-"

She shook her head and ran back to the house, slamming the door, before he could finish his sentence.

"Right," Harry croaked. "About as good as I expected."

As quickly as possible, Harry ran up to his bedroom, changed, stashed his magazine and forms, then dashed back outside to walk to….he didn't know where he was going to walk. He just had to get away from the house before he drew attention to himself from Molly. He'd have to tell her and Arthur tonight. He hoped it wasn't as big of a disaster with them as it had been with Ron and Ginny.

That evening, Harry sat at the kitchen table, trying to compose a letter to Hermione. He hoped that maybe she would sympathize with him and he'd make it through the summer with at least one relationship intact. Ron had refused to come down from his room the entire day. Ginny sat silently in the living room, knitting and refusing to speak any word comprised of more than one syllable. Harry had tried to catch her eye when she had come down the steps, but she made in plainly visible that she wanted nothing to do with him. Harry could tell that Molly sensed the tension within the household, but she didn't press anyone for details as she prepared dinner.

At six o'clock, Harry heard Molly's spoon clock spring to life. He looked up and saw Arthur's spoon jump from work, to traveling, to home. A second later he was stepping over the grate and kissing Molly's cheek. He spotted Harry at the table and his eyes lit up.

"Harry! How was your meeting this morning?' Arthur asked, tossing his briefcase into the living room and sitting down at the table. "I passed Kingsley earlier and he said he was pleased with the outcome."

A sudden sobbing sound was emitted from the living room and they both turned in time to see Ginny's streaking up the staircase. Arthur looked at Harry, quizzically.

Harry sighed and said, "It went quite well. We um…let me go get a few things." Harry climbed the stairs to his room and returned to the kitchen with all his information on the A.A.A. He handed the magazine to Arthur and sat back down across from him.

Arthur scanned the front cover and started flipping through the catalog. "Blimey Harry," Arthur said, awestruck. "Kingsley said last week he had stumbled upon a big opportunity for you. Merlin's beard, I never imagined that this was what he'd been talking about."

"What's that dear?' Molly queried, wiping her hands on her apron as she approached the table.

Arthur gave Harry a look of 'now or never', and cleared his throat. "Kingsley offered Harry the chance to attend the _American Academy of Aurors."_

Molly let out a laugh, unsettlingly identical to Ron's. "That's sweet of Kingsley to think of Harry's future, but surely he knows that Harry will be returning to Hogwarts. Why would the minister fill his head with a silly idea like this?"

"It's not a silly idea," Harry said, resignedly. "Kingsley didn't just offer me the opportunity. He secured a spot and I accepted."

"Preposterous," Molly declared, flippantly waving her hand. "You haven't taken any of your N.E.W.T.s. What school would accept an unqualified child?"

"I'm not a child anymore," Harry said, trying to keep his cool. "And I'm not exactly unqualified either."

"Molly, darling, this really is an amazing opportunity for Harry. Let's allow him to explain his decision," Arthur said, trying to cool the flames before they were all engulfed in the blaze.

Harry found the Los Angeles section of the Academy catalog and started sharing all the information that Kingsley had given him. Molly's mouth was set in a firm line, but she listened to what Harry had to say. At the end, she looked longingly at a picture labeled Venice beach, and let her finger trace across a palm tree.

"And you say it's only for one year?" she asked, looking at him with her intense brown eyes.

"One year," Harry assured her. "I would return next summer and complete the last two years of training in London."

Molly sighed. "I can't say I'm pleased about the choice…but I do understand why you made it. Whatever you need, you have our support."

Harry was about to leap from his seat to hug her, but a shrill wail shook the walls. "I can't believe you approve of this!" came a muffled cry, followed by a bedroom door slamming.

Molly looked helplessly at the ceiling and then back to Harry. "She'll come around, dear." She reached over and stroked his hair. "Let the shock wear off and she'll come to her senses."

Harry was not prepared for the waiting period he would have to endure. Neither Ginny or Ron acknowledged Harry for almost the entire month of June.

Ron, realizing that he couldn't stay holed up in his room all day, every day, took to waking early and going to work in the Wizarding Wheezes shop. Harry chanced a visit to the shop one day, attempting to talk to Ron on a more neutral turf. When he walked in though, he was greeted by George's frowning face.

"Sorry mate," George lamented. "He saw you coming up the street and hightailed it out the back door of the stock room."

"Yeah, I should have seen that one coming," Harry accepted, leaning on the counter. Harry glanced around the store and noticed he had come during a lull in business. There was just one teenaged boy listening to Lee Jordan explain the Muggle Magic Tricks products. Harry felt the profound absence of the other half of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. He suddenly realized that he had been so wrapped up in his own tribulations that he had let an obscene amount of time pass since actually talking to George.

"How have you been?" Harry asked, testing the conversational waters.

George looked down for a beat before answering, "Some days are good. Lee being around has helped a lot. Plenty of rough days though, where it's hard to get out of bed." George let a bitter laugh. "I'm torn between wanting to change everything so that I'm not constantly reminded of him, but not wanting to change anything because it feels like losing him all over again." George swiped at his eyes and cleared his throat. "I, um, started seeing a therapist at St. Mungos once a week and it's actually been an immense relief. I'm free to talk about whatever I want and just get a load off my chest. It's been a good way for me to work on digging through my grief and anger, without burdening it all on the family."

George met Harry's stare and frowned. "I know they'd be happy to talk with me-" he started to explain.

Harry held up his hand and George stopped. "I'm glad you found a constructive outlet." George nodded and stood up. "Sorry I scared off your employee," Harry commented, trying to alleviate the somber moment. He moved to his left as the customer walked up to the till and dumped an armful of merchandise on the counter.

"It's alright, he'll feel it in his paycheck," George said airily. He quickly rung up the total, dropped the kid's sickles into the drawer, and handed back a couple knuts in change. "Come visit us this year on your Hogsmeade weekends. We've taken over Zonko's old shop," George called as the boy exited. He turned back to Harry and smiled. "I hear we _won't_ be seeing you there this year."

"Aye, you heard right," Harry mumbled.

"Don't let my git of a brother make you feel an ounce of guilt," George insisted. "You know he has to sulk and beat himself up, simultaneously making everyone else miserable, before he pulls his head out of his arse. I think Hermione being gone has just made it doubly hard on him."

"Yeah, I know," Harry fumed. "When should I expect Ginny to come 'round? "

"Ooh, Gin's turned against you too?" George hissed. Harry nodded, miserably. "My sincerest apologies mate. That girl can hold a grudge."

This unfortunately wasn't an exaggeration on George's part. Ginny held her grudge and she held it strong. If she wasn't barricading herself in her bedroom, she was sitting in the living room reading or knitting, making it perfectly clear to Harry that he wasn't welcomed to join.

Harry busied himself at first with helping Molly around the house with chores. Without anyone to divert his attention as he worked, Harry completed these rather quickly and Molly started shooing him out of the kitchen, insisting he enjoy his summer holiday. So he started trying to fill his time with walks to the pond, popping round the joke shop on Ron's days off, and writing to Hermione.

Hermione had been successful in locating her parents. Through a bit of creative persuasion, the ministry officials were able to get them to willingly check into the Australian Magical Health Center. They began slowly reversing Hermione's memory modifying charm, allowing her parents to gradually regain memories of their life in England. She said it would take another week or two before they were fully themselves. Modifying memories was pretty straightforward, but reversing the charm could have dire consequences if not done properly. Allowing them to regain all of their memories, at one time, could cause permanent insanity.

Hermione's advice for Harry echoed that of Molly and George- let Ron and Ginny accept his decision in their own time. She spent no small amount of ink, though, gushing about how excited she was for him, and that this was, indeed, a fantastic opportunity that he absolutely had to seize, and should feel no shame over it. It made Harry smile, knowing he had at least one of his friends on his side.

Andromeda Tonks was equally pleased to hear that Harry would be "embarking on a grand adventure". He had called on her and Teddy, one particularly boring afternoon. His godson was nearly three months old now and growing by leaps and bounds. Teddy's hair had taken to changing to match that of whoever was holding him, so as Harry fed him that afternoon his little tuft of hair turned black and stuck out at ridiculous angles.

"He'll grow so much while I'm away," Harry regretted, trying to gently twist the tuft of hair into a neat pile. As soon as he let go, the hair sprang back to it's unruly position.

"I'll be sure to send you plenty of photographs. Actually, while I'm thinking about it," Andromeda perked up. She bustled over to a closet and pulled out a camera. "Look here and smile boys!" Harry set down the bottle, propped Teddy up on his lap, and smiled as the flash went off. Teddy took that as his cue to spit up all over the leg of Harry's jeans. Harry placed the gurgling baby in his travel cot, and used his wand to siphon off most of the warm goo from his trousers. "I'll make sure to owl you a copy of that when I get it developed," Andromeda laughed.

One afternoon, mid June, Molly caught him after breakfast and asked if Harry would mind cleaning out the shed. She noticed a few gnomes had dug their way in and made a mess of everything. Happy for a productive task, Harry accepted. Two hours later he was standing amidst a mound of quidditch equipment, antique muggle car parts, a collection of worn out boots, three broken rakes, a rusted spade, Arthur's muggle tool box, and Molly's gardening hat. He had tossed half a dozen struggling gnomes over the stone wall, knowing full well they would clamor back over as soon as his back was turned. Harry repaired the holes the gnomes had dug and placed a charm around the outside in hopes that it would keep the little blighters out. He banished the boots to the rubbish pile. mended the rakes, scoured the spade, and dusted off Molly's hat.

As he started summoning the objects back to their rightful places, a heap in the corner of the shed caught his eye. Somehow, he hadn't noticed it during his purge. After placing Ron's broomstick on it's hook, he went to investigate. A quick kick revealed it was a dusty pile of white rope. Harry started lugging it out into the daylight and was pleasantly surprised to find that it wasn't just rope, but a massive, old hammock. Quickly, he finished summoning the shed's occupants back inside and then worked on untangling the hammock.

Aside from a couple inches of dirt and some minor rips around the edges, the hammock was in near perfect condition. Harry was able to vanish the dust instantly. The rips proved a bit trickier, at least for him. He was sure Hermione or Ginny, with their knitting skills, could mend them in a heartbeat. Seeing though as how one was several time zones away, and the other refused to acknowledge his presence, he was on his own. In the end, the seams were jagged, but they were stitched together and Harry was proud to see that they held tight when he gave them a tug.

He floated the hammock over the stone wall, and secured it between two cherry trees, several yards into the orchard. It turned out to be the perfect hideaway. He had a slightly skewed view of the Burrow, but he could relax in relative obscurity from everyone else. Borrowing a spare pillow from the linen closet, Harry started stealing away to the hammock every afternoon. He'd take a book along, but would inevitably doze off one chapter in. Sometimes a strong breeze would blow through, rocking his little sanctuary, and knocking a few cherries into his lap, which he happily snacked on.

Finally, in the very last week of June, the silence embargo was dropped.

Harry was lounging in the hammock, reading a book. Looking for a laugh, he had snuck away with Molly's copy of _Voyages with Vampires,_ by his former defense teacher, Gilderoy Lockhart. As he started chapter two, he started to feel his eyelids droop. Harry let the book drop onto his chest and winced. The spot of Voldemort's killing curse was still slightly sore. He twisted into a comfortable position and let his tiredness win the battle.

Five minutes later, Harry heard the unmistakable sound of breathing and his nose caught a whiff of juniper berries, on the breeze. He didn't need to open his eyes to know who was hovering over him.

"I'm mad at you," Ginny blurted out.

"I came to assume that much." Harry opened one eye and looked at her. "Hello, by the way."

"Why didn't you tell me how you felt about going back to school?" Ginny demanded.

Harry exhaled, loudly, and and answered, "Because I was afraid I would hurt you and you'd hate me and refuse to talk to me every again."

"Well, aren't you just a walking, talking, self fulfilling prophecy," Ginny spat.

Memories of Harry's fifth year flooded into his forethought. He could tell Ginny was thinking the same, but they left it unspoken.

"Not quite, considering you only said you're mad at me and that, technically, counts as talking to me," Harry countered.

"But you still hurt me."

"I did, and I'm sorry for that." Harry saw Ginny soften, marginally, but he defenses were still up.

"Is that all you have to say about it?" Ginny pressed on.

Harry groaned and retorted, "What else do you want me to say Ginny? Do you want me to say I'll forego the Auror training and come back to school? You want me to agree to sacrifice my happiness. my comfort, my freaking sanity! All to spend a year in a place that will make me nothing by miserable?"

"So I make you miserable then?!" Ginny cried.

"Don't twist my words," Harry growled, try to steady his temper. He mentally counted to ten as he got out of the hammock and stood, facing Ginny. "I can't go back there. I'd be a hopeless wreck. I wouldn't be myself and I know, given that situation, I'd hurt you even worse. I won't let myself do that."

Tears creeped out of Ginny's eyes and down her cheeks. "So, I'm being ditched again for my own safety?" she sobbed.

Harry stared at her and started to laugh. His thick skull finally realized what had been going on in Ginny's mind the past month. He had assumed that she was angry about the idea of not seeing him everyday and having to settle for a long distance relationship. In reality, it seemed as though she had taken Harry's acceptance to the American school as a break up.

"Really? You're just gonna laugh and plunge the knife deeper," she cried.

"Are you mental woman?" Harry laughed again, walking around the hammock to stand in front of Ginny. "Who said anything about ditching you?"

Ginny started to stammer. "But, you're going to America. I saw the pictures in that bloody catalog. Gorgeous, tanned, _blonde_ women, in bikinis. I can't compete with them!"

"You're right, you can't," Harry stated. Ginny cried harder. Harry took her face into his hands and wiped her tears away with his thumbs. Ginny's sobs ceased in her surprise at the gesture. "You can't compete because there is no competition. You win, hands down. Every time, I choose you." He bent low until their noses touched. "This is just something I have to do for myself," he whispered. "Can you forgive me for being weak and selfish, just this one time?"

Ginny said nothing. Slowly, she tilted her head to the side and gave Harry the kiss he had be craving for a year.


	6. Chapter 6

Once Harry had reconciled with Ginny, he felt like he had shrugged a hippogriff off his shoulders. Ron still wasn't talking to him, but Harry was hopeful that that would soon change. Hermione had written, on July second, saying she would be coming home the following week. Her parents' memories had been fully restored and all they had left to do was tie up some final loose ends. Ron appeared slightly more chipper after that letter. When Harry said "Good morning," to him, Ron actually grunted a reply. Though, the more Harry thought about it, it could just have easily been Ron's stomach grumbling. Either way, Harry took it as a sign of progress.

That afternoon, Harry and Ginny took a stroll to the pond after lunch.

"Aren't you even a little bit scared of going away for so long?" Ginny asked.

Harry grinned and moved closer so he could hold her hand. "Nah. I've seen way too many truly terrifying things by now to let a new school scare me."

"I'm a little scared of being without you for another whole year," Ginny admitted.

"It's not like I won't be free to travel back and forth," Harry reassured. "I'll get a break at the holidays, just like you."

"It just feels so unfair," Ginny complained. She shook her head vigorously and apologized," I'm sorry, that came out like a whiny toddler, chucking my toys from the pram." She sighed and continued, "I just feel like I've waited so long for this. It got ripped away from me so suddenly the first time, and now it's happening again."

Harry wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close to his side. "This is nothing like the first time," he said firmly. "I promise, this time, I know I'll be coming home." He felt Ginny nod her head and smiled as they came upon the pond.

They walked around to the far side and came to a stop under the apple trees. The July sun was hot and sticky, and Harry was thankful for the thick shade, as he laid down in the cool grass.

"Hey, look there," Ginny giggled. Harry propped himself up on his elbows and followed Ginny's gesture to an object several feet away. Ron's lonesome trainer sat among a patch of overgrown clover.

"Guess he's not missing it that much," Harry scoffed.

"He was probably so embarrassed that he just went out and got new ones." Ginny laid down, with her head propped up on Harry's stomach. After a minute of trying to get comfortable, her restlessness got the best of her and she sat back up. "Let's swim."

Harry snorted and looked up at her. "In what?"

"Our clothes," she answered, as though Harry's question was the most absurd thing she had heard.

"I'm not swimming in jeans," Harry replied.

"Yeah, neither am I."

Harry watched, slightly dumbstruck, as Ginny stood, kicked off her tennis shoes, and shimmied out of her cut off shorts. In just her purple tank top and white panties, she trotted down to the lake. She reached the end of the dock, raised her arms over her head, and dived right in.

Harry scrambled to his feet and down to the edge of the water, just as Ginny emerged with a yelp. "Oh, wow, this feels so much better!" She eyed Harry skeptically. "What are you waiting for?"

"I…just….oh, what the hell," Harry conceded. He pulled off his shoes, stripped off his sweaty t-shirt, and slid out of his jeans. When he was down to just his boxers, Harry placed his glasses on top of the clothing pile and gingerly waded into the pond. The sudden shock of cold made him shiver. Slowly, he eased himself into the water as his body acclimated to the welcomed temperature change. Ginny glided over to him and placed her fingertips on his chest.

"What happened here?" Ginny coaxed. She let her fingers trail across the bright bruise over his heart, slowly moving up to the oval scar at his collar bone. "These look gruesome."

"The bruise is from the killing curse," Harry breathed, shuddering as Ginny's fingers skimmed back down his chest.

"And it still looks like this, two months later?"

"Madame Pomfrey put numerous salves and lotions on it, but nothing worked." Harry explained. He was trying to focus on the top of her head as her tank top revealed more than Harry had been prepared for. "It's not your usual bruise though is it? Bit more than just getting pelted by a bludger. Madame Pomfrey speculated that because it was a dark curse, the mark would last longer than normal. It has been shrinking. I suspect in another month or so, it'll be barely noticeable."

"And this one?" Ginny asked, moving back to the scar and tracing the oval groove.

"The locket we tracked down, that was a horcrux," Harry said, placing his hand over hers. "After our run in with Nagini, in Godric's Hollow, it had sort of seared to my skin and Hermione couldn't pry it off without a severing charm. Another dark magic souvenir," he grimaced. Ginny looked into his eyes and just stared. After a minute Harry squirmed under her scrutiny and said, "What's wrong?"

"I don't think you know just how amazing you truly are," she whispered. Harry started to protest, but was quickly silenced by her mouth on his. He reveled in the kiss, pulling her close and holding her tight. When Ginny finally broke the kiss, Harry's head was spinning and his breath was ragged.

When he was finally able to form a coherent sentence, he breached the silence. "I need to go back to Privet Drive tomorrow, and get some things I left behind last year. Will you come with me?"

"Of course," Ginny answered. "I've been curious about your muggle family since Fred and George's stories at the start of my third year."

Harry threw his his back and laughed heartily. "Oh lord, the sight of that gigantic, purple tongue flopping on the floor will stick with me forever!" Ginny giggled and snuggled her back into Harry's chest, wrapping his arms around her front. "The noise he made, trying to shove it back in his mouth, I didn't know humans were capable of producing sounds like that. Dudley had the honor of being the original test dummy of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. Fred and George were over the moon about that little success." Harry held onto Ginny and floated backwards, enjoying being able to talk about Fred with a smile on his face.

The pair stayed in the lake until their hands and feet looked as though they had aged eighty years, and the sun hung low in the sky. Ginny and Harry climbed onto the shore and their teeth instantly started chattering.

"Hold st-t-t-ill," Harry stuttered, trying to hold his wand straight. Forcing a steady hand, he performed an intricate wave and a stream of hot hair escaped and enveloped Ginny, drying her clothes and hair.

"Ahh, heavenly," she sighed, fluffing out her hair.

Harry treated himself to the same spell before throwing his clothes on. Ginny bounded up to him, fully dressed and holding Ron's trainer. They raced back to the Burrow as the sun dipped ever closer to the horizon.

"You're late," Molly scolded as Harry and Ginny barreled through the back door. "Go wash up!"

Ginny handed the trainer to Harry and darted upstairs before her mother could question her whereabouts. Ron was sitting at the table, scribbling a note on parchment. Harry saw beside him a stack of four letters, each bearing the Hogwarts seal. Hermione's prepared reply was resting next to her letter.

Harry waited for Ron to finish and roll up the parchment before plunking the trainer down on the table in front of him. Ron quickly grabbed the shoe and scowled at Harry.

"There's a pub down in the muggle village. Meet me there for a drink tomorrow night, when you're done at the shop," Harry instructed.

"And why would I want to do that?"

"Because we need to talk and you look like you could use a drink." Harry thumped him on the back and added, "Plus, I'm paying." He hurried up the staircase before Ron could argue.

The next day, Ginny side-apperated with Harry to a park, on the outskirts of the village of Little Whinging. Harry lead the way through the streets until they turned onto Privet Drive. Ginny suddenly stopped and gazed up and down the street.

"Not very imaginative here, are they?" she said, eyeing up the houses that lined the quiet road. Except for the vibrant hues of the varying flowers in the front gardens, each house was identical to the next. "It looks quite boring."

"You've just summed up my early childhood, darling," Harry snorted. They made their way to Number Four and Harry was amused to see that his aunt had wasted no time replanting her agapanthi and pansies. He stepped up to the door, but couldn't bring himself to knock. As he was giving himself a mental pep talk, Ginny huffed and gave the door three hard raps.

Seconds later, the door opened to reveal Petunia, wearing her scrubbing gloves and a look of shock on her face.

"Hello, Aunt Petunia. Sorry to drop by announced. If it isn't any trouble, I'd like to gather up the last of my things from the bedroom." Harry greeted.

Petunia hesitated for a moment before opening the door all the way and stepping aside. "No, no trouble at all. Please, come in," she said.

Harry and Ginny stepped inside and Petunia shut the door behind them.

"Who is it?" Vernon called from the kitchen.

"It's Harry, dear," Petunia answered.

Harry heard a gurgling, choking sound and then the scrape of kitchen chairs. Harry and Ginny had apparently interrupted lunch time. Ginny grasped his hand and took a tentative step backwards. Vernon burst through the kitchen door, his eyes narrowed and suspicious. Harry could see Dudley behind, peering over his father's head.

Vernon looked as though he was about to explode on Harry, but before he could get one word out Petunia held up her hand and spoke first. "Harry is just here to clear the rest of his belongings from his bedroom. If we just give him and-" she stopped, looking at Ginny and realizing they hadn't been introduced.

"Ginny," Harry, finished for her. "Ginny Weasley. You met her dad and brothers a few years back." Vernon's face turned red as Harry imagined visions of the destroyed fireplace and Ton-Tongue Toffees raced through his mind. "Ginny, this is my Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and cousin, Dudley."

Dudley finally shoved his way past Vernon and stood in front of Harry. The time away had been good to Dudley. He had grown several more inches and shed about four stone. His blond hair was shaggy and reached his shoulders.

In a move that shocked everyone, Dudley held his hand out to Ginny and said, "Nice to meet you." Ginny let go of Harry's hand and reached out to shake Dudley's. "Harry," Dudley continued, reaching out for Harry's hand. "Glad to see you're safe."

"Yeah, thanks," Harry said, slightly stupefied. He shook Dudley's hand and said, "Same to you. You're looking fit." Dudley nodded and smiled. "Right, I'll just go grab my stuff and we'll be on our way."

"There are a few empty boxes in there that you're welcome to use," Petunia called as Harry and Ginny climbed the steps.

"That was an unexpected welcome," Harry whispered. Vernon's reaction had been exactly what Harry was prepared for. He knew that if Petunia hadn't stepped in, Vernon would have unleashed a tirade about the nerve Harry had returning to _his_ house, after all that Harry had put him and his family through. Harry was not ready to be defended by his aunt, or to be welcomed by his cousin like an old friend. As nice as they had been, it was still unsettling after almost two decades of being ignored.

Harry opened the door to the smallest bedroom. Besides some empty cardboard boxes, tossed against the wall, nothing had been touched. All his old spell books were still piled on the small, corner desk. He opened the small wardrobe and found a bag of Dudley's hand-me downs that Petunia used to force on him. Hanging up were a few school robes that he had long outgrown.

"Not a bad room," Ginny commented, pulling back the curtains back. A cloud of dust exploded sending her into a sneezing fit.

"Bless you. Wasn't always my room though. Used to be Dudley's second bedroom."

"Second bedroom?" Ginny asked in disbelief. "So then you two shared a room growing up?"

Harry laughed, dryly. "Oh, god no. Did you happen to catch a glimpse of the little cupboard, under the stairway?"

"They didn't!" Ginny exclaimed. "Oh Harry, I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It keeps me grounded," Harry replied with a wink. "Should my ego ever get too big, I need only to remind myself that for eleven years my best friends were spiders and dust bunnies."

Harry turned and started focusing on clearing out the wardrobe. He pulled out the bag of clothes and tossed them to the side. "That goes to the rubbish bin," he declared. He pulled out the robes, folded them up and placed them in a box. "We'll used this box for things to get donated."

Harry dragged the box to his desk and Ginny brought over an empty one for a 'keep' pile. Most of his old school books were got dropped into the donation box. "Glad to be rid of this one," he muttered, tossing _Unfogging the Future_ into the donate box, while pitching _Wandering with Werewolves_ into the keep pile.

Ginny gave him an incredulous look and said, "Lockhart? Really?"

Harry shrugged and said, "The man knows how to spin an interesting tale." Ginny smirked and opened up the desk drawers. She threw empty ink bottles, ripped parchment, and broken quills onto the mounting trash pile. He glanced up from _Hogwarts, A History,_ when he heard a clink of metal. Ginny had found an unopened tin of owl treats. Harry frowned and threw them to the keep box. "Pig and Errol will make short work of those."

Ten minutes later, Harry and Ginny lumbered back down the stairs with the boxes and garbage. Harry nipped outside to chuck the trash in the bin and came back in to find Ginny standing awkwardly in the kitchen, accepting a cup of tea from Petunia. She glanced at Harry and raised her eyebrows as she took a sip. Dudley was sitting at the table with a sandwich, reading the paper. Vernon had disappeared to the back garden.

Harry cleared his throat and announced, "Right then, the bedroom is all clear. No sign of ever being occupied by a freak." Harry saw Petunia twitch in response to his comment. He dug a crumpled piece of parchment out of his pocket and smoothed it out. He handed it to Petunia, who looked at it quizzically. "This autumn I'll be be starting at a sort of university, in America, for 'our kind'. Should you need to get in contact, that is the muggle post address you can reach me at." Petunia nodded and folded it up.

Dudley crossed the kitchen and clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Good luck, Harry."

"Thanks. You have any post grad plans?" Harry asked, lifting up the boxes.

"Be headin' to Royal Holloway come September," Dudley answered, puffing out his chest a bit, obviously proud of his acceptance.

"Brilliant, congratulations," Harry said, truly pleased for his cousin's accomplishments. "Keep in touch and let me know how that goes." He gave a quick nod and started for the door. Ginny was just opening it when Harry heard his name called.

Petunia was in the middle of the room, twisting her apron tightly in her hands. Harry looked back at her, but said nothing.

"Harry, I'm….I'm sorry," Petunia whispered. Harry put the boxes down and took a step forward. She cleared her throat and continued, a bit more loudly. "Growing up, Lily was my best friend. When she got that letter from Hogwarts, I felt like I was losing my other half. I couldn't really blame her for embracing a new experience, so I blamed the school for taking her away. It left me bitter and drove us apart. When she and your father were killed, I started blaming her for getting mixed up with the wrong people. I blamed your father for not protecting her better. As silly as it sounds, I blamed magic because that's what had taken my sister from me. But… I never had the courage to blame myself. I don't know if things would have turned our different, but maybe, if I hadn't have shunned her, or swallowed my stupid pride and made amends, I would have been the one she would have trusted with her secret. Maybe I could have kept her safe." Petunia sniffed and dabbed her eyes with the apron.

"Then you showed up on our doorstep and everyday I had to stare into her eyes. I was filled with so much hate, for so many things, but mainly myself. I ended up taking it out on you, convincing myself that you were the source of my misery. If you weren't in my life then I could have buried all that guilt and never had to think about it. But, there you were, my constant reminder of every regret." She apprehensively inched closer to Harry. "I'm not trying to excuse my attitude or behavior, there is none. But, I thought you deserved an explanation."

Harry was flabbergasted. He had caught a brief glimpse of Petunia and his mother's relationship, through Snape's memories, and could tell that the sisters had shared a bond. He was never aware that Petunia had, and still did, harbor such guilt after the bond was severed. She never spoke of Lily, and growing up, Harry quickly learned not to ask about her.

Overcome with sadness for his aunt, Harry closed the distance, between them, and hugged her. She let out a tiny gasp, but returned the embrace.

After a moment, she held him at arm's length and studied his eyes with a mournful longing. "If what that squeaky little wizard told us is true, I know you've made her proud," Petunia concluded. "Make sure you take care of yourself."

Harry was at such a loss for words all he could do was nod. Petunia waved to Ginny as Harry gathered the boxes. She walked them to the door, closing it softly after they had exited. Harry sat down on the front stoop, still reeling from his aunt's confession. Ginny knelt down in front of him and held his hands until he was ready to make the journey home.

"Well, that was surreal, to say the least," Harry muttered, getting to his feet and lifting the boxes once more. He and Ginny started off down the street.

"Here, let me carry one," Ginny offered, holding out her arms.

"Sure, catch!" Harry called and he threw both boxes to her.

"Harry Potter!" Ginny screamed. A second later, both boxes landed softly in her arms.

Harry burst with laughter. "I put a feather-light charm on them in the kitchen," he explained, taking the top box back.

"Prat," Ginny fumed, booting him the shin.

By the time they got to the park, Harry had successfully begged forgiveness and they apparated back to the Burrow. Harry stashed the boxes in his room and freshened up. He changed into clean jeans, a crisp, purple button down shirt, and dabbed on some cologne. He rarely used cologne, but feared he smelled of sweat and Petunia's cleaning solution. If he chanced a shower, he'd be late meeting Ron.

Ginny was still in the kitchen, pulling out pots and pans for dinner, when Harry came down the steps.

"Hey there handsome. You look nice" Ginny purred, sauntering over to him. "Smell nice too," she said, nuzzling his neck.

"Mmm," Harry groaned. "I'm on a schedule and you're throwing all these wonderful distractions at me." She started kissing him and he went weak in the knees. He returned her kiss, but broke it quickly after. "I'm already on thin ice with your brother. If I'm late, due to snogging his little sister, I fear the damage may be irreparable." Harry finished buttoning his cuffs and kissed Ginny's forehead. "Plus, your mother scares the pants off me, and you know she'll be in here any minute."

"I could scare the pants off you," Ginny suggested, slipping her hands into his pockets.

"Damn…." Harry kissed her once more and she released him. "I'll see you later tonight," he breathed.

Harry rushed out the back door and trotted down the lane towards the little village of Ottery St. Catchpole. He found Ron pacing in front of a tiny pub, The Frog Prince.

"You're late," Ron mumbled.

"According to my watch, you're early," Harry replied, opening the door.

Ron checked his own wrist as they weaved their way to a table in the corner.

"Huh, we got through the stock check quick tonight." Ron shrugged off his jacket as a waitress set two menus down in front of them.

They silently studied the menu until the waitress returned for their orders.

"I'll have the fish and chips please, with a pint of lager," Harry requested, handing over his menu.

"Could I get the roast beef, with mash and broccoli. Also, double order of Yorkshire pudding with extra gravy." Ron handed the menu over and added, "Oh, and a pint of bitter, please." The waitress bustled back to the kitchen. Ron turned to Harry and said, "Well, you got me here. What did you want to say?"

"You're being an arse," Harry stated bluntly.

"Don't pull your punches now, mate. Tell me how you really feel," Ron muttered.

"Look, I'm know that you feel I'm being a selfish prick, running off to America," Harry started. "But I'm finally at a point where I can make a selfish choice and not have there be any dire results because of it. This is the first time I feel like I'm in control of my life, and not beholden to a prophecy or fulfilling an unspoken obligation to the wizarding world. I'm sorry if I made you feel like yesterday's news, but if you know me at all, you know that that wasn't my intent."

Their drinks arrived and Ron chugged half of his in one go.

"After all we've been through together, everything we've battled…"Harry trailed off, his throat constricting. "You're my best friend. You really think I'd chuck you out of my life now?"

Ron slumped back in his chair and sighed. "Course not. I'm just…I'm not a big fan of change, ya know. I thrive in consistency." He took a gulp of his beer and continued, "And now I feel like everything is changing so fast. When McGonagall gave us the option to have a proper seventh year, I was elated. The thought of N.E.W.T.s scared me, and still make me queasy if I dwell, but we would be back where we belonged! Then you said you weren't going back and I realized that you were right about how Hogwarts won't feel like the school we remember. And now, knowing we're still going back still, without you, it had me second guessing my choices.

"How so?" Harry asked, sipping his beer.

"It got me thinking that maybe the only reason I wanted to go back in the first place was to slow the inevitable. Pushing back the fact that at some point I have to admit that I'm an adult and need to sort out _my_ priorities" Ron said with a grin. "It's quite daunting to look into the future and have no idea what the hell you want to do with your life."

"There's no shame in not knowing what you want to do. It's not like Hermione, or Ginny, or even I have our whole futures mapped out. Trial and error mate. Being an Auror is something that intrigues me, but there's always the possibility that I'll get through this first year and want nothing to do with it," Harry took a pull of his beer. "And that's okay," Harry continued, letting out a belch. "Just because you choose one path, doesn't mean you're locked into it forever. Plus, you'll have Hermione there. You know she won't stand by and let you fail your exams or not push you to pursue something."

"That's another thing that worries me about you not being around," Ron complained.

"What do you mean?"

"Look, I love Hermione, and have for years," Ron insisted. "But you know what we're like. What happens when we have a row and you're not there to beat some sense into us?"

"Here's what you do," Harry said, leaning in. "You listen to Hermione, ya stubborn arse. You know she's usually right. …Don't tell her I said that though." Harry leaned back to make way for the arrival of their meals. He loaded up his fish with tarter sauce and continued, "Seriously, though, you'll be fine. When you both put away your stubbornness, you work really well together."

"You should write an advice column for the Prophet," Ron laughed, dumping gravy over everything on his plate.

"Yeah, Rita Skeeter and I would make a good team," Harry snorted.

Ron grinned and shoved a forkful of Yorkshire pudding and beef into his mouth. They tucked into their dinners and the conversation switched to next month's Quidditch World Cup. The waitress refilled their drinks several times while Ron discussed, in detail, why the Malawi underdogs would end up flattening Senegal, who had been favored to win since the quarterfinals.

"I put twenny galleons on it lass week," Ron slurred. "So…so….so they bloody well better win."

Harry laughed so hard he tired himself out and had to rest his forehead on the table.

Ron exhaled loud and slow, then thumped Harry on the back.

"I'm gonna miss ya mate," Ron admitted quietly. "I know why yer' leavin' though, and hope you're able to find the dull, peasant life that ye' seek."

"Cheers to that mate." Harry raised his glass to meet Ron's and finished off his lager.

Ron looked down at his watch, eyes not quite focusing, and swore. "I don't know if I'm reading thish right, but I shink tits a bit late."

Harry howled with laughter and tears streamed down his face. "You said tits," he wheezed.

"Did not," Ron protested. "Did I?"

"You did," Harry said, trying to bring his laughter under control. He looked up and caught the unhappy look of their waitress. "Oh, shit, we should hit the road before our arses get the boot." Harry stood up, tossed a generous amount of muggle pounds onto the table, then he and Ron stumbled out into the refreshing night air.

They slowly made their way back towards the lane, leading to the Burrow. Once they reached the end of the street lights, Ron pulled out his wand and suggested they just apparate the rest of the way.

"No!" Harry screamed, scaring Ron and himself. "We'll bloody well splinch ourselves," Harry hissed. "There's no way you can concentrate on the Three Ds in your state."

"Me? What about you?" Ron scoffed. "You probably couldn't even recite the Three Ds."

"Peesh of cake," Harry boasted. "Destination," he said, holding up one finger. "Dee….Deet..detrimental!" Harry held up a second finger. "And…..desolation!" Harry said proudly, waving five fingers in the air.

"Total perfection," Ron laughed, giving Harry a round of applause. They spent the rest of their journey trying to come up with as many D words as they could.

"Deliberation," Harry said, opening up the back door. "Hey! I think that actually might be one of the three…" He trailed off when he saw Ginny sitting at the table.

"Hello boys," she drawled, smirking.

"I'm starving! Are there any leftovers from dinner?" Ron asked, opening the fridge and rummaging through. "Oooh, trifle!" He grabbed a fork, called out, "Night!", and disappeared up the stairs.

Harry sat down next to Ginny, grinning foolishly. "You're pissed as a newt," she accused.

Harry shook his head and said, "Yes, I am." He picked up the Hogwarts letter addressed to him. "Do you have a quill handy?"

"I really don't think I should arm you with sharp objects," Ginny answered. "What on earth do you want a quill for right now anyway?"

"I need to send McGonagall my regretful reply!" He spied a quill on top of Arthur's unfinished Daily Prophet crossword. He made a grab for it, but Ginny was quicker. "Come on, just let me write three lines!"

"If you write to McGonagall now, I'll tell her you were drunk when you did it and then she'll give you a detention," Ginny threatened.

"That's harsh, Ginevra."

"You'll thank me in the morning," Ginny concluded. She got up, rummaged through the remedy potion cabinet, and handed Harry a small blue bottle. "Take this and go sleep it off, sweetheart."


	7. Chapter 7

_Dumbledore informing him that it was all an elaborate hoax….Ron and Hermione leaving him burned and buried alive, under fake treasure, in the Lestrange vault…..Voldemort slowly peeling off his face to reveal Sirius, cackling mockingly…..Dobby apparating him to Riddle's cliffside cave and leaving him stranded in the middle of the lake, as inferi slowly crawled out of the still water and silently strangled him…._

Harry continued to be plagued by nightmares every evening. Molly gave him numerous sleeping potions, each one stronger than the last, but nothing could silence his subconscious. Inevitably he would would wake, several times through the night, soaked in sweat and his heart racing.

The hammock seemed to be the only exception. Rocking in the breeze, usually with Ginny by his side, Harry was mercifully able to drift off into a dreamless slumber, for an hour or two.

One such lazy afternoon, Harry had just dozed off when the air was rent by a slamming door and a familiar voice yelling, "Hello? Is anyone here?"

"Hermione!" Ginny screamed. She bolted out of the hammock and darted for the house, leaving Harry swaying, dazed and confused, under a shower of cherries.

It took him a full minute to regain his senses before he was able to stumble out of the orchard. The two girls were hugging and talking so fast that Harry could only make out every other word or so.

"Harry!" Hermione called as Harry scaled the wall. "You look rough," she quipped, pulling him in for a hug.

"Hello to you too," he chuckled.

"Still having nightmares?" Hermione asked, studying the shadows under his eyes.

"Only every night," Harry replied, rubbing his neck. "That's nothing new though. How are you? Nobody was expecting to see you until tomorrow."

"I know, but we got back a day early, so I thought I'd drop by and surprise everyone."

The trio migrated to the kitchen as Hermione started filling them in about Australia and the process her parents had to undergo in getting their memories restored.

"That sounds exhausting," Ginny said, frowning. "Was it painful for them?"

"Physically, no," Hermione answered. "But the emotional distress was really hard. You could see it on their faces when a particularly bad experience was recovered, like my grandparents passing," she said, her voice straining. Ginny passed a box of tissues across the table and Hermione blew her nose. After a moment, she continued, "It's because of things like that, that the process has to be done gradually. Letting a person regain every single memory in one day would send anyone into a nervous breakdown. There…..there were times when I wondered if I was doing the right thing….making them relive everything….."

"Of course you made the right choice," Ginny assured her. "How could you not bring your parents home?"

"Because they were happy there," she whispered. "I watched them relive half a century of experiences, many that I wasn't even aware of. The good, the bad…I saw it all. It felt insanely selfish of me, putting them through that. But I couldn't bear not have my mum and dad in my life! I couldn't imagine not having them around when I finally graduate, or get married, or have children. I needed them back."

"There's nothing selfish about wanting your parents in your life," Harry insisted. Through her tears, Hermione gave him a sympathetic smile. "Are they happy to be back with you?"

"They seem to be," Hermione said slowly. "I mean, they keep telling me that they're glad I came back for them. They're looking into rebuilding their dental practice, and want me to bring Ron over for Sunday dinner. It's just…..I know they were also happy in their other life….and knowing that I caused them so much pain-"

"Hermione, stop," Harry said, grabbing her hand. "Your parents love you. You've got to stop beating yourself up over it, or you'll drive yourself mad. New rule- no more guilt trips for going after what we want, what we _need_ , in life. We've all been doing it lately and if we continue on, all of us will end up in an asylum." Harry exhaled slowly and stood up. "Sorry for that bit of tough love."

Hermione sobbed and flung herself at him.

Harry hugged her tightly and said, "I'm happy everyone got back safely," He patted her back and leaned back. "How about we take a trip to Diagon Alley?"

"I take it you and Ron talked things through?" Hermione sniffled, dabbing her eyes and picking up her purse.

"Of course," Harry replied nonchalantly, "I just needed to get a few pints in him and we're best mates again."

"A 'few' pints in _both_ of them," Ginny corrected.

Hermione giggled and sighed, "I missed you guys so much!"

A few minutes later they were strolling up the cobbled street, to Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. Hermione opened the door and Ron looked up at the sound of the tinkling bell.

"Hermione?" Ron said, slightly bewildered.

Hermione didn't say a word. She ran for Ron, jumped into his arms, and kissed him hard, giving no sign that the affectionate reunion would be brief.

George casually pushed them behind the stock room curtain. "Don't want to scare our customers now, do we?"

"When they come up for air, send 'em to the Leaky Cauldron, for lunch," Harry said, opening the door. "Want us to bring you anything?"

"Yeah, make sure Casanova comes back with some soup and kippers," George instructed.

Harry and Ginny turned right, starting off for the Leaky Cauldron. As they walked past Broomstix, Harry slowed and ogled the the racing brooms in the window. It had been over a year since he last flew. His Firebolt had been lost in his escape from Privet Drive, and he never got a chance to replace it. He had had the urge to take Ron's Cleansweep for a spin, the day he cleaned out the shed, but the fear of being jinxed had kept his feet on the ground. Harry grabbed Ginny's hand and pulled her into the shop.

Half an hour later, Harry's pockets were considerably lighter and he was beaming at his new Firebolt. He had gone over every broom available, comparing features, seriously considering going back to a Nimbus for a moment. But when he picked up the Firebolt, it just felt right in his hand. The shopkeeper touted it as a Firebolt 2.0, though that wasn't it's official name. But, he explained to Harry, that over the last few years. it had gotten a few minor tweaks, like upgrading the handle from ash to ebony. It also now went from naught to one hundred and fifty five miles per hour, outstripping its predecessor by five miles.

"You think they play Quidditch in America?" Harry wondered, as they reached The Leaky Cauldron.

"I remember Dad saying something about American wizards devoted to a game called Quodpot." Ginny answered.

"What the hell is Quodpot?"

"Don't know exactly. Dad said that back in the 70's a few wizards tried to popularize it here. It never caught on though, obviously. Maybe Flourish and Blotts has a book on it?"

"Oi, where have you been?" Ron called from the back of the pub. Harry held up his broomstick and Ron grinned. "Brilliant! Fancy a game when I'm done work?"

"I certainly didn't buy it as a fashion accessory," Harry stated. He and Ginny took their seats just as Tom sidled over to take their orders.

Once Butterbeers had been summoned and Tom hurried off to the kitchen, Hermione slapped a new, thick, daily planner on the table and brandished a shimmering, peacock feathered quill. She lost herself in the planner, scratching various notes here and there. Harry and Ginny listened as Ron told them about what's been going on at the shop and some of the new stuff he started working on with George.

"I'm enjoying it more than I thought I would," Ron said, draining the last of his Butterbeer. "At first it was an excuse to escape from things." He threw a guilty look at Harry. "But, it's been really fun running the shop with George, and seeing how all the products work."

Their food arrived and Hermione finally gave her quill a rest.

"You do know you haven't been set any homework yet, right?" Harry joked, stirring up his pea soup.

Hermione gave him a cross look before answering, "Of course I know that. I've just been looking at time tables and thinking about upcoming birthdays," she said, raising her eyebrows at Harry and Ginny. "I have an idea that I think would actually be quite fun."

Ron and Harry exchanged worried glances.

"Go on then," Ron said, slowly

"I thought, that instead of celebrating your birthdays separately, we could celebrate them together, on Ginny's birthday," Hermione suggested. Her eyes gleamed as she continued. "A new muggle-themed, dance club opened up, in Wimbourne. I thought it would make for a really fun night!"

"I don't dance," Harry stated.

"Oh, please. You danced fine at the Yule Ball," Hermione insisted.

Ginny laughed and said,"Hermione, you must of been under the spell of a certain Quid-" She was cut off by Ron's murderous glare and backpedaled quickly. "I mean, don't you remember how awkward he was with Parvati? It was a bit painful to watch."

"She speaks a hard truth," Harry attested, stuffing a chunk of bread in his mouth.

"You'll be fine," Hermione said, attempting to get the conversation back on track. "If we wait until August 11, then Ginny will be of age and we can all go out together and celebrate. I was thinking that maybe we could invite a few others, like Neville and Luna, and have a bit of a send off for Harry, too."

"I think it sounds like a brilliant idea, Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed "Where did you hear about this club?"

"The Good News section of the Daily Prophet," Hermione said, incredulously. "Honestly, I'm out of the country for a month, and still know more about what's going on around here than you lot."

"I try to stay clear of the Prophet," Harry muttered.

"Anyway," Hermione huffed. "They had a small review of it and it's getting quite popular. They play music from muggle bands and serve muggle cocktails."

Ron looked at her confused. "You were raised by muggles. How is any of this interesting to you?"

Hermione was trying to keep calm, but was obviously getting frustrated by the second. "I thought it would be fun to see the wizarding take on a muggle night club. But if you're just going to complain then we can do the usual, boring birthday dinner and cake."

"No, we're doing this!" Ginny insisted, elbowing Harry side, harder than he felt was warranted.

"Of course," Harry agreed. "We'll dress in our muggle best and go tear up the night."

Hermione smiled, gratefully. "Ginny, I thought you and I could take a day and go into muggle London. We'll shop, have lunch, maybe catch a show."

"Sounds lovely, count me in," Ginny said as she finished her pork pie.

Tom came back with George's lunch and Ron stood up. "Alright, I'm off," he declared, quickly kissing Hermione. "See you guys later tonight."

Harry, Hermione, and Ginny paid their tab, and then stopped at Florean Fortescue's for ice cream, before heading back to the Burrow.

Ginny and Hermione started going over their supply lists for the upcoming year. Harry was in the sitting room, admiring his broomstick, when a large barn owl swooped in the window. The owl dropped a thick envelope on Harry's head, before soaring back out.

Harry peeled away the purple ministry seal and found his orientation packet for the A.A.A. There was a welcome letter, congratulating him on his fine educational choice and assuring him a bright future. A second parchment detailed his course schedule for the school year. It was broken into two terms, fall and spring, and different classes for each term.

The items that took up the bulk of the package were a t-shirt with A.A.A. embroidered in red, white, and blue, and a booklet devoted to the Los Angeles campus. It toured the magical facilities offered, and gave suggestions for popular spots around the city, both muggle and wizarding. There were course descriptions and biographies of all the professors. New students were encouraged to attend a "freshman meet and greet banquet" on Saturday, September fifth.

The final piece of parchment in the envelope was a personal letter from Kingsley:

"Dear Harry,

I hope this letter finds you well, and making the most out of your summer holidays. I'm pleased to inform you that you're now an official student at the Auror Academy of America. It really is a unique opportunity and I urge you to take advantage of everything it offers, both in and outside the classroom.

I have arranged for your travels to begin the morning of Friday, September fourth, to allow you the chance to enjoy the orientation festivities. Your personal effects will be sent along the evening before. You'll find them waiting in your dormitory upon your arrival. Your first portkey is scheduled for nine o'clock, a.m.. Please arrive at the Department for Magical Transportation no later than eight forty-five, to prepare for your departure.

Finally, Harry, I want to let you know that I have confided your plans to only a few key people here. You are, of course, free to tell whoever you would like. I just want to reassure you that I've done my very best to make sure the press doesn't find out, and that you can have a peaceful school year.

Best Wishes,

Kinglsey Shacklebolt

Harry gathered everything up and went into the kitchen, to join the girls at the table.

"We were just talking, Harry," Hermione started, turning a few pages back in her planner. "And on Ron's next day off, we're going to meet up in Diagon Alley to get all our supplies. Would you like to join us?"

"Yeah, I'd actually like to pick up a few books at Flourish and Blotts," Harry answered. He held up the contents of his mail and said, "Kingsley just sent along all the information for the Auror Academy." Harry caught a glance of Ginny's shoulders slump at his news.

"I thought the ministry told you all your books were being taken care of?" Hermione asked.

"They are," Harry assured. "But, if I could, I'd like to take a peek at your book lists, and maybe get copies of them to go along with my course materials. I'm really nervous about having such a big gap in my studies."

"I'm sure you'll do great," Ginny quietly reassured.

"There's just a few subjects I'd like to brush up on before being thrown into the thick of it all, like Potions and Transfiguration," Harry continued on. "I got by in those classes, but I wouldn't say I excelled."

Hermione had picked up the welcome book and was paging through, eyes lit up.

"Harry, this looks amazing," she gushed. "Look at the accomplishments of all these professors! And you get your own cute, little flat in the dormitory." She turned a few more pages and gasped, "And it's all right along the beach! I can't imagine ever wanting to leave a place like this!"

A strangled sob escaped from Ginny and Harry sent a spurning glare at Hermione.

"But, I mean, of course Harry will want to!" Hermione tried to quickly cover her remarks. "I'm sure the constant sunshine gets a bit boring after a while."

Ginny's chair scraped harshly over the tile. "Excuse me," Ginny gulped. She stood and hurried out the back door.

Harry let his forehead thud against the wooden table.

"I'm so sorry Harry," Hermione moaned. "I got so excited for you and didn't even think about what the bloody hell I was saying. I'll go talk to her."

"No," Harry groaned. He turned his head to look at her, head still on the table. "I'm a lousy boyfriend. I really wish I had a time turner at the moment."

"Would you really choose not to go to America, if you could go back in time?" Hermione asked.

Harry exhaled loudly. "No, it's not that. I would go back and include Ginny in the decision making process instead of just springing the news like I did" He sighed and closed his eyes. "I have a lot to learn about the intricacies of relationships."

"You'll both get there," Hermione assured, patting Harry's head.

"Thanks," Harry pulled himself from the table and got to his feet. He slowly made his way out the back door, and into the orchard. He found Ginny lying in the hammock, staring at the sky.

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered, sitting down in the grass. He gave the hammock a gentle push and sent it swaying.

"For what?" Ginny croaked. "No one did anything. I just had a moment of weakness."

"Ginevra Weasley, you are anything but weak," Harry insisted. "I'm sorry because I should have included you in my decision to study in America. It was a shit move, to leave you out of something so important. It's not how you treat someone you love."

Ginny rolled onto her side to look at Harry. "You love me?"

"The fact that you're questioning it just confirms that I am, indeed, a lousy boyfriend," Harry sighed, with a half smile.

"No," Ginny whispered. "You're not lousy." She grabbed his hand and tugged him to the hammock. He crawled in and wrapped his arm around her waist. "You might be a little impetuous at times, and while it can be frustrating, it's also one of the reasons that I love you."

Harry kissed her, long and slow, savoring every sweet moment.

Ginny was the first to pull away. "Promise me you'll come back," she whispered, her lips still on his.

"Promise."

"And promise me you'll write me, all the time."

"Twice a day, if you like," Harry grinned.

"Some of us have lives, Potter," Ginny chided. "Once a week, at least."

"Once a week," Harry agreed.

Ginny laid her head of Harry's chest and took a deep breath as a sudden breeze rocked the hammock.

"Close your eyes and I'll kiss you. Tomorrow I'll miss you," Harry started to sing, stroking Ginny's hair. "Remember I'll always be true."

Ginny chuckled softly and said, "I think your talents might be wasted as an Auror."

"I can't take credit for that," Harry laughed. "It's the work of a genius muggle band, The Beatles. An old neighbor from Privet Drive used to play their records often, and I would listen at the fence."

"Can I hear more?" Ginny urged.

"I'll pretend that I'm kissing, the lips I am missing, and hope that my dreams will come true," Harry crooned. "And then while I'm away, I'll write home everyday, and I'll send all my loving to you."

A/N- The lyrics at the end are from the song All My Loving, by The Beatles, written by Lennon/McCartney


	8. Chapter 8

Ron's next day off fell on the following Tuesday. They all agreed to meet at Wizarding Wheezes, after lunch, and spend the afternoon shopping. A slow panic started to creep over Harry as he realized that he had no idea what to get Ginny for her birthday.

"When you see the right thing, you'll know," Hermione had assured him, when Harry asked for suggestions.

Harry wanted to tell her exactly how much help she was, but he bit his tongue and just nodded. After all these years, he knew exactly what gifts to get his friends. Ron was chuffed with anything related to his favorite quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons. For Hermione, anything that boosted her organizational skills or expanded her knowledge was received with excitement. But, when it came to Ginny, all the contents in Harry's mind seemed to leak out and he was left lacking.

Tuesday came and Ron, Harry, and Ginny apparated directly into the stockroom of the shop. When they came through the curtain, they found George trying to talk Hermione into a few of the new Daydream Charms.

"Do you honestly think I'll have any time this year for daydreams?" Hermione asked, exasperated. "They're called NASTILY EXHAUSTING Wizarding Tests for a reason."

"Tell you what," George bargained, picking up a box. "This one's on the house. When you want to shut your brain down, and I promise that you will, give it a go. I bet you ten galleons, you show up in Hogmead for five more."

Hermione eyed the box suspiciously, before accepting the box and hastily shoving it in her bag. "Let's get going, shall we?" Hermione insisted.

The group set out along the virtually empty street. They passed a few elderly wizards and witches, sitting on benches, just watching the passing shoppers. A harried witch, arms loaded with packages, was trying to coax a toddler away from the window of a toy shop. "Rory, come along," she pleaded. "Look! Mummy's got a Chocolate Frog in her bag!" The promise of sweets sent the boy hurtling at his mother's legs. Not quite ready for the impact, the witch stumbled and her packages went flying.

Without thinking, Harry drew his wand and cushioned the parcels before they hit the ground. Hermione gave her wand a wave and the boxes and bags zoomed into a neat pile.

"Oh my goodness, thank you!" the mother panted in relief. She reached into her purse and handed a small, blue box to her groping son. He squealed in delight as he opened the box and the frog hopped onto his head. The witch looked up at Harry and Hermione, and her face flushed in embarrassment. "So helpful, thank you again. My husband is never going to believe me when I tell him who saved my shopping!" She gathered up her things and shooed the little boy up the street.

Harry sighed and stashed his wand back in his pocket. "Where to first?" he asked, attempting to gloss over the incident.

"How about we stock up on Potion's ingredients?" Ginny suggested, taking Harry's hand.

As they approached the Apothecary, a glint of gold caught Harry's eye from the window of the antique shop.

"Can I meet you guys over at Scribbulus in fifteen minutes?" Harry said, slowing down, and letting the others pass him. "I just remembered something I want to do quick. Plus, I'm not really keen on subjecting myself to the Apothecary smell today."

"Want me to go with you?" Ginny asked, taking a step back towards Harry.

"No, that's okay. Go on and stock up your kit. I won't be long," he said with a smile, waving the others on. Once they had disappeared into the shop, Harry dashed back to the antique shop. He left several minutes later, stashing a small parcel in his pocket, and reached the stationary store just as the others walked up.

"Everything alright?" Ginny asked, eyeing Harry suspiciously.

"Of course," Harry replied, holding the door open.

After stocking up on quills and parchment, the four made their way to Flourish and Blotts. Off the Hogwarts' required reading list, Harry got the assigned books for Transfiguration, Potions, and Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"You really think there's anything in that book that you don't know?" Ron asked, as Harry set the defense book to his pile.

"Possibly," Harry answered. "Can't hurt to have a refresher, can it?"

Ron nodded and set off for his Herbology book. Harry browsed around the shop and ended up adding an international sports book, Beyond Quidditch, and a book called Magic in North America. He was hoping to get a gist of what life would be like in Los Angeles, so that he wouldn't appear completely oblivious to his American classmates.

They then proceeded to lug their books over to The Leaky Cauldron for a quick drink. Tom summoned up lemonade for them all and Harry pulled out Beyond Quidditch. He turned to the section on Quodpot and started reading.

"I can't believe Americans enjoy this," Harry said in disbelief, placing the book on the table.

"What, Quodpot?" Ginny inquired.

"Yeah, it doesn't seem anywhere near as exciting as Quidditch." Harry pushed his book over so that the others could see the pitch diagram. "On one side, you have a pot full of neutralizing solution. The teams start at the other end and attempt to get a ball, called a Quod, down the pitch and into the pot, before it explodes in their face. If it explodes before they get it to the pot, the player holding the ball is out. They continue on like that until one side is completely out of players."

"Sounds like a sport Fred and George would invent," Ron laughed.

Hermione finished the last of her lemonade and exclaimed, "Oh, I forgot something back at Flourish and Blotts. Ron, can you come help me?"

"Since when have you needed my help in a bookstore?" Ron asked.

"It's on a high shelf," Hermione insisted, giving Ron an intense stare.

"But they-" Ron finally caught Hermione's look and his eyes went wide. "Oh, yeah, of course. I can help you." Ron jumped up and scampered out of the pub after her.

"Subtle, those two," Harry muttered, turning back to his book.

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked.

"Hermione doesn't forget things. Bet you they're off to find a dark corner to snog in."

"Hmm," Ginny hummed in his ear, grabbing his knee. "Why didn't we have that idea?"

"Because my snogging today is tomorrow's front page news," Harry groused.

Ginny frowned and pulled her hand away. She silently sulked over the last of her lemonade as Harry obliviously read about Swivenhodge.

Ron and Hermione returned ten minutes later, grinning and laughing. Ginny bolted up and said, "Hermione, I need to go to Madame Malkins'. Want to come along?"

"Sure," Hermione said slowly, shooting a confused look between Ginny and Harry.

"I can go with you Gin," Harry said, putting his book down.

"No, I'm fine," Ginny replied, irritably. She stormed out of the pub, Hermione close behind.

"I'm just messing up left and right here lately," Harry bemoaned.

"What's got her knickers in a twist suddenly?" Ron asked,

"Search me. Ice cream?" Harry sighed, tossing his book back into the bag. "Maybe I can smooth things over with a sundae."

Ron and Harry trudged to Florean Fortescue's and ordered four chocolate toffee sundaes. They then found a shady bench and waited for the girls outside of Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.

Harry looked up when the shop bell chimed. Hermione walked out first, giving Harry a pitiful look. Ginny soon followed, carrying her bags along with several robe boxes.

"Trade you," Harry offered, holding up the sundae. Ginny smiled, taking the ice cream, and handing over all her packages. "Thank you," she said, and quickly kissed his cheek before gulping a spoonful of ice cream.

They walked back to Wizarding Wheezes to say goodbye to George, before disapparating back to the Burrow.

Back home, Ginny went to store her things in her room. Hermione grabbed Harry's arm before he could go inside.

"You remember telling me you had a lot to learn about the intricacies of relationships?" Hermione began. Harry nodded. "Lesson one, you've got to acknowledge that you have a girlfriend in public."

Harry puzzled over the statement for a minute before her words clicked into place.

"Oh," Harry said, finally catching onto why Ginny had been short with him in the pub. "I should go-"

"Lesson two, no, you shouldn't," Hermione corrected. "Not every bump in the relationship needs to be rehashed and talked through. In this instance, actions speak louder than words. Also, don't underestimate how much we'll forgive when a cute guy offers us a cupful of chocolate," she winked.

"Noted," Ron murmured.

A few days later, Molly insisted on inviting guests over and throwing Harry a birthday dinner, much to Harry's protests.

"Honestly Mrs. Weasley, you really don't need to go to all of the trouble," Harry insisted that morning. He was sitting amongst a pile of the latest Wizarding Wheezes products from Ron and George, a No-Doze alarm clock from Hermione (not that he needed that at the moment), and several new pairs of jeans and shirts from Molly and Arthur.

"You're other ones were really starting to look ragged, dear," Molly explained as Harry had torn open her package. "I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all, thank you," Harry insisted, as Molly set a full English breakfast in front of him.

That evening, the two picnic tables were enlarged in order to play host to all of the Weasley family, Hermione, Andromeda and Teddy, Luna, Neville and his grandmother, and Kingsley. Molly pulled out all the stops on dinner- shepherd's pie, roast lamb, Yorkshire pudding, roast, mashed, and jacket potatoes, peas and carrots, and roasted brussel sprouts. Along with a two tiered chocolate cake, there was sticky toffee pudding, scones, and treacle tart for dessert. They had just started to tuck in when they heard footsteps coming up the lane.

'Sorry we're late," a gruff voice called.

Harry squinted against the setting sun and saw the broad silhouette of Hagrid grow clearer, accompanied by Minerva McGonagall. Harry hurried down the path to welcome them both with a hug.

"Nice to see you again, Potter," McGonagall greeted, patting his back.

" 'appy birthday Harry," Hagrid said, thumping Harry on the shoulder. "Got ye' sumthin' special." He held up a covered cage.

"Oh wow, Hagrid, you didn't have to do this," Harry said, suddenly overwhelmed. He took the cage and carried it back to the table. When he lifted the cover, he found a beautiful tawny owl, slumbering on a perch. He replaced the cover and grinned at Hagrid. "She's lovely, thank you so much."

Hagrid smiled warmly. "I know she's not Hedwig, but I thought she might help keep ye' comp'ny in the states."

It was a beautiful evening and Harry was soon thankful that Molly had insisted on the gathering of friends and family. He laughed, drank, and ate more than he could ever remember. When the sun said it's final farewell, George set off box of fireworks that lit up the night for a solid half hour. As the final spark fizzled out, the guests started to part ways. Neville and Luna assured Hermione that they would meet up with everyone at the dance club. Hagrid and McGonagall wished Harry the best of luck in America, making him promise to visit as soon as he returned.

After helping clear the plates and returning the tables to normal size, Harry sluggishly made his way up to his room. He gently removed the cover from his owl's cage and was heralded with a soft hoot.

"Hey there," Harry said, slowly outstretching his arm to her. With another hoot, she hopped from her perch to his forearm. Harry smiled and gently stroked her head.

There was a knock on the door and Ginny peeked her head in. "Am I interrupting anything?" she asked.

"No, come on in," Harry invited.

Ginny sat down on the bed, next to Harry, holding a package in her lap. "Does she have a name yet?" she asked, brushing a finger down the owl's chest.

"I haven't been able to think of one all night," Harry admitted. "What do you think?"

"Oh no," Ginny laughed, leaning away. "I'm the one who ended up naming Ron's little ball of fury, and I still don't think he's forgiven me."

"Whatever you come up with is going to be better than her having no name at all."

Ginny tilted her head and looked thoughtfully at the speckled brown owl. "Athena," she said finally, holding a finger out to the owl. The owl hooted and affectionately nipped Ginny's finger.

"We have a winner," Harry concluded. He placed her back on the perch and opened the window, in case she wanted to go hunt. "There you go, Athena."

"Can I give you your gift now?" Ginny prodded, holding up her neatly wrapped present.

"Everyone keeps insisting on giving me things today," Harry sighed, jokingly.

"That's kind of how this birthday thing works," Ginny said, forcing the gift into his hands.

"Thank you," he whispered, kissing her quickly before ripping off the paper. He unearthed a silver framed picture of him and Ginny, napping in the hammock. The only movement was coming from the gentle swaying of the hammock and their hair fluttering in the breeze. Harry was amazed to see that his face was peaceful, no trace of nightmares infesting his mind. Ginny was nestled with her head on his shoulder, his right arm holding her tight.

"Where did this come from?" Harry asked, running his fingers across the glass.

"Hermione snuck up on us one day and took it," Ginny replied, tucking herself under his arm.

"I sleep better with you by my side," Harry murmured. He placed the picture on the nightstand, beside the alarm clock. "It's perfect, thank you." He pulled her face to his and kissed her.

"Would you like me stay a while and lie with you? Help you fall asleep?" Ginny suggested.

"That sounds nice," Harry agreed. He swapped out his polo shirt for a t-shirt, kicked off his jeans, and climbed into bed. He lifted up the quilt, inviting her in. Ginny shucked off her trousers and climbed under the quilt, snuggling up close to Harry.

Harry wrapped the quilt around them and sighed. The last thing he remembered was kissing the top of her head.

The following morning Harry was disoriented for a moment before realizing he had just had the best night sleep he'd had in over a year. Ginny stirred beside him and slowly opened her eyes, grinning sheepishly at him.

"Good morning," he mumbled, nuzzling her neck.

"It is indeed," she replied, craning her neck to look at the clock. Finally seeing the time, she swore and jumped out of bed. "Mum and dad will be up in five minutes. I don't think they'd be pleased to see me sneaking out of your room." She pulled her crumpled trousers back on, kissed Harry quickly and whispered, "See you at breakfast!" before moving swiftly out the door.

And so it went for the next week. One of them would sneak to the other's room, after the house had turned in for the night, and then would slip out in the morning before anyone was else was up. Harry had never slept better. Listening to Ginny breathe, as he nodded off, was the comfort he had been searching for. It allowed him to empty his mind and finally banish the nightmares. Slowly, the shadows under his eyes started to disappear. Every now and then, the thought of losing this new found comfort, when he left for America, crept into his mind, but he wouldn't let himself dwell on the thought long. He'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

Hermione and Ginny planned to spend the day in muggle London, the day before Ginny's birthday.

"Guys' day Harry! What do you fancy we do?" Ron asked, that morning at breakfast.

"I assume you both have outfits for tomorrow evening?" Hermione questioned, accusingly.

"I'm sure I have something in my closet," Ron answered, grabbing a slice of bacon.

"No jeans," Hermione threatened.

"What's wrong with jeans?" Harry cried.

"We're not going to a quidditch match, we're going some place NICE!" Ginny said, shooting Harry an exasperated look.

Ron opened his mouth to protest, but Harry kicked him in the shin.

"You're right, we'll head into London with you and go find something decent while you girl's go do your thing," Harry assured, smiling complacently at his best friend, and his girlfriend.

Once they hit the streets of London, they bid the girls goodbye and watched them scurry off.

"I don't want to spend the day shopping," Ron groaned.

"Follow my lead and we'll be playing quidditch in an hour." Harry reassured. He pointed to the nearest department store, Selfridges. "Let's go!"

Harry and Ron wound their way through the aisles to the men's department. Harry beelined to the first stack of black dress trousers, pulled out a pair in each of their sizes. He then darted for a rack of black button down shirts, again finding one in both their sizes. He handed Ron his outfit and concluded, "Now, just grab a vest you like and go check out."

"Bloody brilliant mate!" Ron declared, grinning.

Ron chose a black and ivory striped vest. Harry settled on a hunter green vest that softly shimmered when the light hit it. After completing their purchase, they were back at the Burrow in time for lunch, a round of quidditch, and several games of wizarding chess, before Hermione and Ginny returned.

The following morning, Harry awoke in Ginny's bed and enjoyed the quiet moments, watching her sleep, before the alarm clock rang. She groaned and rolled over before the clock could wake her.

"Happy birthday," Harry chirped, kissing her quickly before pulling a small, wrapped box, from his rumpled jeans. He passed it to Ginny, who was still rubbing sleep from her eyes.

"Thank you," she yawned. She wasted no time ripping the paper off and lifting the lid. Ginny pulled a long golden chain, from the cotton bedding, and held it up. A small golden snitch dangled on the end. "It's lovely, Harry." she whispered.

Harry gently took it from her, undid the clasp, and put it around Ginny's neck. "You caught me," he murmured, securing the clasp and pulling her hair back so that the pendent fell upon her chest. "I might struggle a bit, from time to time, but don't let go."

"Never," Ginny breathed. She pulled Harry on top of her and kissed him until he couldn't think straight.

When she finally released him, Harry laid there, twirling her hair around his finger, trying to steady his breathing. "I can't believe we woke up so early," he murmured.

A look of horror overcame Ginny's face and she shot up. Grabbing the clock, she hissed, "We didn't! We forgot to set the alarm!"

Harry groaned and covered his face with his hands. Ginny jumped up and threw on her robe and slippers.

"I'll go out first and check that the coast is clear," she said, frantically pulling her hair into a ponytail. "If you hear a tap on the door, it means you're safe to leave too."

"And if I don't hear a tap?"

"Then you're on your own," Ginny replied, shrugging her shoulders.

"You're cruel," Harry sulked. Ginny nodded and slinked out of the room.

Harry got up to pull on his jeans as she gently tapped the door. He swiftly opened the door and scooted into the hall. When he turned around, he was staring at Arthur, just coming down from the bathroom. Arthur's eyes went wide and swept from Ginny, to Harry, and back again.

"Dad it's not what-"Ginny said, hastily.

Arthur held up his hand and shook his head. "Don't know what you're talking about, I saw nothing." With that, he breezed past them and down to the kitchen.

Ginny and Harry shared a worried look before setting off in different directions. Ginny to the kitchen, Harry to his room for fresh clothes. When he joined the other's, Harry's stomach did a flip flop. Bill had dropped by to wish Ginny a happy birthday before heading to work.

Trying to blend in with the crowd, Harry slipped into the seat beside Ginny. She was gushing over the new watch from her parents and showing off the necklace from Harry. Harry silently piled food onto his plate, but shifted uneasily. Every now and then, Arthur would catch Harry or Ginny's gaze and raise his eyebrow, suspiciously.

"Arg, I can't take it," Ginny grumbled. "Mum, Harry and I have been sleeping together for the last week and a half. We aren't doing anything, it just helps him sleep and not have nightmares," Ginny abruptly blurted out.

Bill started choking on his eggs and Ron burst out laughing. Molly stood dumbstruck, staring blankly at her daughter, while a pancake started to smoke on the griddle. Harry's face started to burn as he tried to shrink into his seat. Meanwhile, Arthur sat reading the paper, chuckling softly as he sipped his tea.

"Oh, I see," Molly finally spluttered. She aimlessly vanished the charred pancake. "Do you want to talk about…woman…..things…."

It was Ron's turn to choke.

"No!" Ginny yelped. "We're good! Just thought you ought to know."

Molly nodded, weakly, and turned back to the griddle. Harry never ate a meal quicker than he did that morning.

Hermione arrived in the early evening and barricaded Ginny and herself, in Ginny's bedroom to get ready. Ron and Harry lounged in the living room. Ron flipped through a quidditch magazine and Harry read a few chapters in his defense textbook. At about quarter past six, they surrendered their reading material and went to change. They were waiting in the kitchen when the girls finally emerged.

"Wow, you boys clean up nicely," Hermione complimented, running her hand over Ron's vest. "We need to go out more often."

"I'll say we do," Ron agreed, eyeing up Hermione's strapless, silver dress. She had straighten her hair and pulled it back into an elaborate, twisted ponytail.

"You both look beautiful," Harry remarked, pulling Ginny close. She had chosen a white dress, with capped sleeves, ballet flats, and the snitch necklace. Her hair was loosely pinned back, away from her face.

"Let me get a picture before you set off," Molly called, from the scullery. She wiped soap suds on her apron and pulled a camera from the china cupboard. "Big smiles!" The four of them huddled together and smiled at Molly. A puff of purple smoke left them coughing and wheezing. "Ok, you lot have fun. Be safe!"

"We've booked rooms at the local inn, no need to wait up," Hermione informed. "Don't want anyone ruining a good night with a splinching."

They started to head for the back door when Ginny suddenly stopped. "I forgot my coat, give me just a minute," she called, hurtling back up the steps. When she came back down, she was wearing a long coat, had taken the pins out of her hair, and switched the ballet flats for strappy, red sandals.

"Why did you-" Harry started.

"Bye mum!" Ginny interrupted loudly, pushing Harry out the door.

He took the hint and scurried out. Together they apparated to the high street in Wimbourne. The street was crowded with people finishing their day's shopping and couples heading out for a late dinner. They spotted the club right away. A black brick building, with numerous lanterns enchanted to flash neon colors, touted an enormous sign for The Mugg Club. A few wizards milled about, outside the entrance, chatting and puffing on pipes.

Hermione gave the doorman her name. He ushered them inside and directed them to the cloak check. Ron and Harry handed theirs over, stuffing the tickets in their pockets. Harry turned around to take Ginny's coat and let his jaw drop, finally seeing the reason for the unusually long coat.

She had completely changed from the white dress into a skin tight red one, with a plunging neckline. The only piece of her original outfit left was the snitch pendant, gleaming on her chest.

"I had to make sure mum saw me in the white dress first," Ginny explained, passing her coat past a dumbstruck Harry, to the clerk. "This isn't exactly a Molly Weasley approved dress." She winked and pulled Harry towards the thumping music.

"It's not exactly a Ronald Weasley approved dress either," Ron reprimanded.

"Sod off Ron," Ginny called, walking off to the dance floor.

"Yeah, sod off Ron," Harry echoed, trailing after her.

The inside of the club was quaint and inviting. The circular dance floor took up most of the space, with booth style tables lining the perimeter. Every booth was upholstered in plush red velvet, with fairy lights bathing it in a soft glow. The dance floor was dark, except for the blinking fairy lights casting brilliant hues of every color, across the wood.

Ginny squeezed her way into a clear spot and pulled Harry's body into hers, as a hip hop song started. She placed his hands on her hips, and then gently started swinging her hips back and forth.

"The key to dancing is to just let the music guide you," she instructed. "Start with your hips, and let it build with the tempo." She slipped a hand onto his hip and one around his neck, guiding his body with hers..

Harry attempted to keep the beat with Ginny. He pulled her closer, hoping that her natural grace would mask his lack of coordination. If he was a lost cause, she didn't show it. Her gaze was locked with his, smile broad and genuine, and her body moved eloquently in time to the music.

The fast tempo faded into a slow song and a few of the surrounding dancers cleared the floor.

Harry enveloped Ginny's waist with his arms and said, "This is more my speed." Ginny laid her head on his chest and they drifted along, as a guy sang about wanting to stand with his girl on a mountain and bathe with her in the sea. Harry was just starting to agree with the song- he could, indeed, stay like this forever- when a smack on his shoulder brought him back to reality. He quickly turned around to find a grinning Seamus Finnigan.

"Hey Harry!" Seamus laughed, reaching out his hand. "Ginny!"

"Seamus, good to see you!" Harry greeted, shaking Seamus' hand.

"Dean and I set up camp over there," Seamus pointed to a large booth, beside the bar. Harry waved at Dean, who appeared to be brooding over his pint. "He'll come around. Think he was just a bit shocked to come in and see you two together again."

"Right," Harry grimaced. He squeezed Ginny's hand and said, "Why don't you head over and I'll get us all drinks. What do you fancy?"

"Something fruity," Ginny answered.

"Thanks for narrowing that down," Harry chuckled. "Seamus?"

"I'm good mate. See you in a mo'"

Harry set off for the bar while Ginny followed Seamus to the table. At the bar he found Neville paying for a gin and tonic, and Luna sipping a glass of red wine. The exchanged hellos and Harry placed his drink order- pint of lager for him, bitter for Ron, and two somethings fruity for Ginny and Hermione. Ron sidled up to Harry just as the bartender set the drinks down. Two tumblers were full of a dark purple liquid, over ice.

"They're called Jolly Ranchers," the bartender answered Harry's puzzled look. "Girls have been going batty over them."

Harry nodded and grabbed the Jolly Ranchers, while Ron took the beers to the table.

"Ooh, what's this?" Ginny said, excitedly eyeing the drink.

"Something called a Jolly Rancher," Harry answered, sliding into the booth beside her. He was pleasantly surprised to find an enchantment caused the sound of the music to soften in the confines of the table. Made it much easier to enjoy a conversation.

"Oh, that's the name of a muggle sweet," Hermione explained. "Growing up with dentists though, they were a forbidden treat in my house."

"So Harry, Neville tells us you're heading for America," Seamus commented.

"Yeah, I leave the fourth of September," Harry replied. He started telling Seamus and Dean about the school. Ginny and Hermione quickly finished their drinks and set off again for the dance floor. Luna sat and watched for a while before getting up to go join them.

"Oh Harry," Luna's lilting voice called. She turned around and started searching through her bag. "I almost forgot, I brought you a going away present." She handed Harry a huge Dirigible plum, dangling from the end of a keychain. "That should be big enough to keep the American Nargles away."

"Er, are American Nargles much different from ours?" Harry asked skeptically.

"They tend to be bigger and slower, so they stick around longer," Luna explained simply, before joining the other two girls on the dance floor.

Harry shook his head and stuffed the plum in his pocket. He and the others sat and watched the girls lose themselves in the music.

"So, how exactly does one 'get jiggy'?" Ron suddenly piped up. "And what exactly are you supposed to 'get jiggy' with?"

His question dissolved the table into a fit of laughter that caught the girl's attention. Luna and Ginny pranced back to the table, while Hermione detoured to the bar. She returned to the table with drinks for everyone.

"After this drink, everyone is out on the dance floor," Ginny declared, kicking her shoes off and downing half her drink in one sip.

True to Ginny's word, they were all pressured back into the center. A steady stream of upbeat, muggle music kept the dance floor hopping and Ron seemed to get more entertained with each song.

"Harry, what the hell is a zigazig and why would someone want one?" he called during a particularly catchy song.

Harry laughed and shrugged his shoulders, giving Ginny a quick twirl. He had given her method of dancing a try, but quickly found that his body had no natural rhythm for the task. He had taken to shuffling his feet mildly and just letting Ginny dance around him.

A solid hour passed before they made it back to the booth, laughing and trying to catch their breath. Ginny hurried off to get the next round, despite protests of not paying for drinks on her birthday.

"This was a great suggestion, Hermione," Harry gratefully acknowledged. "Thanks for urging us to come out."

"You're all very welcome," Hermione accepted, sipping the drink that suddenly appeared before her.

The pulsing music suddenly faded into a slow song and Harry felt himself being pulled from the booth to a plea of "Dance with me." Harry obliged and locked Ginny in a tight embrace

"This has been a perfect night," Harry murmured into her hair. "Sorry that I'm a rubbish dancer though."

Ginny playfully batted his arm. "I love you and your dancing," she giggled, looking up at him. Harry smiled and kissed her. She quickly broke away, saying, "What about your snogging making front page news?"

"Let them gossip," Harry whispered, kissing her again and feeling his head rush as she leaned into him.

By last call, Hermione and Ginny had had their fill of Jolly Ranchers and getting them into their jackets was like trying to wrestle with an octopus. Once he had Ginny secured in her coat, Harry said goodbye to the rest of this friends, promising to drop them a line when he had the chance.

The inn Hermione had booked them into was only two block walk, but this proved to be too big a task for Ginny. She stumbled through the first block, insisting she was "perfectly fine!", before Harry swept her up and carried her the rest of the journey.

In the room, Harry gently placed Ginny back on her feet, and helped undo her coat buttons. Once her coat had been shucked, she wasted no time stripping off her dress and burrowing under the duvet.

"Ooooh, make the room stop spinning," she moaned, as Harry set his clothes on top of the dresser. He handed her a small, blue bottle that she drank greedily. "Mmm, the peppermint is nice," she sighed.

Harry climbed under the covers with her and brushed the hair from her eyes. "Hopefully that makes your morning a little easier.

Ginny smiled drunkenly at him and placed her hand on his cheek. "You're such a sweet, and thoughtful, and kind, and gorgeous boyfriend."

"Bah, that's the alcohol talking," Harry joked, tracing his fingers along the curve of her back. "I'm a horrible boyfriend that's leaving you again."

"Yes, but I know exactly where to find you this time," she sighed happily, before drifting off to sleep.

The next morning, a booming knock on the door jarred them awake. Ginny groaned and buried her head under the pillow.

"What?" Harry yelled, wanting very much to curse whomever was on the other side.

"It's almost noon," Ron called back. "The front desk clerk said if you're not out in ten, he's gonna Levicorpus your arse out!"

"Got it," Harry replied, slumping into his own pillow. "Come on Gin," he coaxed, lifting up her pillow. "Time to face the day."

When they got down to the lobby, they were met by an irritated Ron and an amused Hermione. Ron tossed Harry the morning Prophet and instructed him to turn to page five.

Harry flipped to the middle of the paper and found a picture of the kiss he and Ginny had shared in club.

"Well, at least it's not front page," Harry conceded.

Ginny bit her lip and shook her head. "Mum is definitely going to see the dress now."


	9. Chapter 9

As was nature's cruel way, when Harry wanted time to slow down, the days seemed to rush by. He and Ginny attempted to salvage every spare moment available tucked away in the orchard. Some days they lounged for hours, saying nothing to each other; just enjoying each other's presence as they read. Most days were spent though, huddled together, making wild predictions about what the next year held for them.

"You're going to come back, in June, as this bleach blonde, muscle bound beach stud, that no one is going to recognize," Ginny foretold one afternoon.

"Yes, because blonde would look oh so natural on me," Harry guffawed, raking his hand through his unkempt locks. "No, I will still be the same scrawny, dark haired git, just with a sunburn."

"Yeah, that's probably a more apt vision," Ginny agreed. Harry gently pinched her side and made her shriek. She rolled over, placed her hands on his chest, looking deep into his eyes. "Sing something for me." This had become a daily request, ever since his first impromptu solo.

"You know, you're the only one I'd ever do this for," Harry replied, arching his eyebrows.

"I know," she quipped, lying her head on his chest.

Harry searched his mind for a new Beatles song. "Ooh, I need your love, babe, guess you know it's true. Hope you need my love, babe, just like I need you."

Ginny sighed, contentedly, and tapped her fingers with the rhythm, on his shoulder.

Harry squeezed her tight and continued, "Hold me, love me. Hold me, love me. I ain't got nothing but love, babe, eight days a week."

"Hmmm," Ginny contemplated. "I like it. Can I hear more?"

And so it went until the final week in August, when they finally conceded that they needed to start the packing process, so that they weren't scrambling last minute.

"Mrs. Weasley," Harry started one morning after breakfast. Ginny and Ron had gone to clean out their closets and Harry was left alone in the kitchen with Molly.

"Yes, dear?" Molly replied, wiping down the large oak table.

"I was wondering if you might have a few extra things around that I could maybe borrow for my flat in America?" Harry asked, a bit apprehensively. "You know, to make it feel a bit more like home?

Harry could have just gone out and bought new linens and accessories to decorate his room, but he cringed at the idea of his room looking like he had lifted it from a catalogue. There wasn't any soul or solace in that. One of the things he loved most about the Burrow was that it had the air of love and acceptance permeating every nook and cranny, and he wanted to take a piece of that along with him.

Molly gazed at him, her brown eyes glinting with tears. "Of course, Harry. This is your home after all. You're welcome to whatever you need." She rubbed his shoulder and smiled warmly. "Except my clock!" she scolded.

"I'd never even dream of making off with that," Harry assured, chuckling. He stood and wrapped his arms around Molly. "Thank you for everything."

"The last eight years have been our pleasure," Molly whispered. She patted his shoulders and dried her eyes on her apron. "Now then, dear. If you don't mind the ghoul, you are welcome to search the attic and see if anything catches your fancy. There are plenty of extra sheets and quilts in the linen closet. Though I'm not sure how much use you'll get out of blankets in that warm weather."

Harry thanked her and climbed the stairs to the linen closet. He chose two sets of well worn sheets, a light blanket, and a thick handmade quilt. He dropped these off in his room and then tentatively approached the entrance to the attic.

Harry had only seen the attic ghoul once, during the previous summer. Ron had transfigured it to look like himself, with Spattergroit, so that no one would investigate why he hadn't returned to Hogwarts during their original seventh year.

"Hey, Ron!" Harry called, keeping an eye on the attic door.

"Yeah?" Ron answered, poking his head out off his bedroom.

"I'm about to head up to the attic. Anything I should know?"

"The ghoul likes to chuck stuff." Ron ducked back into his room and returned holding a deflated quaffle. "Before you hit the top, toss this up to announce your arrival. He'll throw whatever is nearest. Most of the time it's just old baby clothes of ours. But once Dad caught a busted up desk clock on the shoulder. The house was almost ghoul-free that day."

"Right, thanks," Harry said, taking the quaffle. He climbed up half of the steps, gently whistled and threw the quaffle up. A red teapot flew threw the air and Harry heard it shatter on the other side of the attic. He rubbed the side of his head, happy to not have been on the receiving end.

Harry crept the rest of the way up and looked to the far left corner. The ghoul was hunched over, glaring at him suspiciously. The ugly, pus filled boils had disappeared, but shoots of red hair still resided on the head of the ugly creature. Harry held up a reassuring hand, and scooted off to the right side.

The attic was spacious, but the ceiling hung low so that Harry was forced to stoop and shuffle between the boxes of long forgotten treasures. He came across a box that was only a quarter full of old pictures and set to work, carefully rehoming them to other piles so that he could use the box for his own collection. The last picture Harry pulled out made him smile.

It showed Fred, George, Ron, Percy, and a baby Ginny all sitting on a picnic blanket. The twins were toddlers, holding a squirming Ginny between them, while looking from her to the photographer with looks of disgust. Percy knelt proudly behind Ron, who looked to be nearing two years. Ron had a biscuit in one hand and kept attempting to crawl away. Percy kept a firm hold on the back of Ron's overalls, keeping his wandering brother just in frame.

Harry placed the photo in a box behind him and started sifting through the top of the boxes, trying to work quickly to see if anything proved useful. The attic was sweltering and it wasn't long before rivers of sweat poured from his head and stung his eyes. After five minutes, he was forced to peel his t-shirt off and mop his forehead dry. Soldiering on, he was able to find a navy blue quill pot, two small desk lamps, a dusty oriental rug, a black, leather satchel, and a couple squashy throw pillows.

Before leaving the attic, Harry went in search of the teapot. He found it's remains against the wall. After repairing and scourgifying the pot, he added it to his box. He was about to leave, when a decrepit record player caught his eye. Sweat now drenched his undershirt and his t-shirt hung damp around his shoulders. Despite the oppressive heat, Harry took a few extra minutes to clean up the player and grabbed a tattered Celestina Warbeck LP from a nearby rack. After a few turns of the hand crank, You Charmed the Heart Right Out of Me clearly filled the air.

His final discovery had given Harry an idea. Satisfied with his other finds, and desperately needing a drink, Harry tiredly carted his box and the record player down the steps

The rush of cool air was a blessed relief and Harry leaned against the wall, letting it wash over him.

Ron opened up his door and glanced at Harry. "I heard something smash. What'd he throw?"

"Teapot," Harry wheezed.

"Ouch," Ron sympathized. "You look spent. I found some Butterbeer under my bed. Want a bottle?"

The thought of Ron's lukewarm offering made Harry's stomach churn.

"No, thanks," Harry replied, holding up his hand. "Just gonna ditch this stuff in my room and get some water. After a shower though, I'm gonna take a trip into muggle London. Want to join?"

"Sure, I'm almost done in here." Ron shut his door and Harry headed downstairs.

Passing by Ginny's door, on his way to the kitchen, Harry heard a strangled roar and copious amounts of swearing. Cautiously, Harry knocked on the door.

"What!?" Ginny screamed.

Harry ventured a look inside and tried his hardest not to laugh. Ginny was standing in the center of her bedroom, chest heaving, hair frazzled, and a scarf covering the bottom half of her mutinous face. Her hands and forearms were shrouded in thick dragonhide gloves and she was holding a deluxe bottle of Mrs. Skower's Doxycide.

"Doxies," Ginny grumbled in explanation. "What's your story?"

Harry glanced down at his sweat stained undershirt and replied, "Attic." Ginny nodded and kicked at a lifeless winged creature. "You want some help?"

"No, thanks," Ginny said, raising the spray bottle. "They've made this personal." She pushed her hair to the side to reveal a bite on the left side of her neck. It appeared to already be half healed.

"Ok, yell if you need reinforcements." Harry started to close the door, but stopped and stuck his head back in. "I'll be heading out, in a bit, with Ron. I'll see you at dinner."

Ginny acknowledged him with a thumbs up. Harry shut the door and heard a stream of muttered curses resume.

August thirty-first arrived and the mood in the Burrow was pallid. Any small thing was liable to cause Ginny to dissolve into sobs. Harry didn't know what to say so, in fear of making things worse on their last night together, he just held her close and reassured her that everything was going to be fine.

After dinner, Ginny excused herself, saying she wanted some time alone to finish packing.

"I'm making the right choice, right?" Harry asked, looking pleadingly between Ron and Hermione.

"Are you having second thoughts?" Ron replied. Harry detected the note of hopefulness in his voice.

Harry sighed and shook his head. "No, I…I just hate making her miserable."

"You know if you came back to Hogwarts, you would make both of you miserable," Hermione stated. "You're making the right choice, Harry. Ginny understands that. It's just hard as the time ticks closer to goodbye."

"True love knows no distance," Ron said, shoveling the final bit of his third helping of pudding into his mouth. He looked up to Harry and Hermione staring at him, shocked and amused. "Wha? Chocolate on my nose?"

"When did you become all romantic and philosophical?" Hermione mused.

"Thanks for the inspiration, mate," Harry laughed, patting the table before he excused himself to his own room.

Harry had made a mess of his room in his attempt to pack. He had started going through his clothes, trying to sort out the good from the tattered. Once he got bored with that, he started trying to sort out books that he wanted to take along to America. When that activity lost it's luster, Harry started cleaning up his attic treasures. In the end, he was left with a roomful of unfinished tasks.

Using his wand, Harry swept everything into piles and started placing a few select items into a box. After changing into a fresh t-shirt and pajama bottoms, he made his way down to Ginny's room, with the box.

"Just a minute," she responded to his knock. Harry could hear her sniffling and trying to pull herself together. Finally, she opened her door and beckoned him in.

"If I may, I would like to try and cheer you up with a gift," Harry announced, pushing past Ginny and setting the box down in the center of her room.

"You know you didn't have to get me anything," Ginny said, blowing her nose.

"Yes, I did," Harry argued, pulling out a wrapped packed and handing it to Ginny.

Ginny moved a pile of clothes from the bed, to her trunk, and sat down. Harry knelt down on the floor in front of her. She slowly tore the paper away and puzzled over the box.

"What's a compact disc player?" she wondered.

"It's a fun piece of muggle technology," Harry explained. "I remember being envious of Dudley and his friends' when I was still in St. Gregory's." He helped her open the box and remove the thin, silver player from it's plastic wrap. At the push of a button, the top flipped open. "This is where you put the compact disk, or CD for short." He gently secured the headphones over her ears. "When you push the 'play' button, music gets piped into these and only you can hear it."

"What is a CD?" Ginny asked, peering under the lid.

Harry handed her another wrapped packed. This one contained four compact discs.

"I got you three Beatles' albums and this one," Harry said, holding up a white CD case, with the faces of five women, smiling from letters that spelled out SPICE. "This one is the group that sang that catchy, 'tell me what you want' song you and Hermione liked in the club. They're quite popular all over the world now, according to the man at the record store."

"Why did you get me all of this?" Ginny wondered as she looked over the CD song lists.

"Who's going to sing to you after tonight? Ron?"

Ginny's eyes filled with tears as she giggled. "I'd rather have Crookshanks sing me to sleep." She set the CDs in her lap and smiled at Harry. "Thank you," she whispered.

"You're very welcome," Harry smiled, brushing the tears off her cheeks. "Ron wanted me to tell you though, if you do figure out what a 'zigazig' is, you must inform him right away," Harry instructed, pointing to the girl group.

"I feel like I'm just full of questions, but how is it going to work in our world? Muggle stuff never works with magic around," Ginny asked.

"Well, we're about to find out if my assumptions are right." Harry opened a package of muggle batteries and showed Ginny how to insert them into the underside compartment. "My thinking is that because you don't have to plug it in, and it doesn't need a satellite connection or use radio transmission, it should work with no trouble."

"Pick a disc, my dear," Harry prompted. Ginny selected The Beatles, Abbey Road, and gently popped the disc into the player. "Excellent choice. Start with the second song." Harry pushed the advance button and then play. He could hear the opening chords of 'Something' fill her ears.

Ginny closed her eyes and leaned her head against her knees, as she listened to the song. Three minutes later, she took off the earphones and threw herself off the bed and into Harry's arms. He fell back into a small pile of clothes, his head bouncing off the box. Before he could question the assault, her lips were on his, greedily demanding his attention.

Harry obliged, with vigor. He wove his fingers into Ginny's fiery strands, pulling her close. A groan escaped his throat as she nipped his bottom lip. With a hand still in her hair, he slid his other hand to her bottom and sat up so that she was straddling his lap. He let his mouth stray across her cheek to just below her ear then proceeded to pepper kisses down her neck.

Ginny gasped and dug her nails into his back. "Is that a wand in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" she moaned into his ear.

The sudden question caused Harry to pull his head away and squint at Ginny in confusion. He pulled his hand from her hair and dug into his pocket.

"It's a Dirigible plum," Harry answered, holding up Luna's keychain.

Ginny sat, dumbstruck, for a heartbeat. Then she roared with laughter and buried her face in Harry's chest.

"I'm sorry. I completely killed that moment," Harry laughed.

"It's okay, probably for the best," Ginny rasped, trying to catch her breath. "Mum has been quite tolerant lately, but I do believe her walking in on that would have sent a shockwave through all of Britain."

Ginny pulled her head back and started to rake her fingers through her hair, in an attempt to straighten it out.

"Don't move, stay just like that!" Harry implored. He reached into the overturned box and grabbed a camera. Before Ginny could object, he snapped her picture. The photo popped out of the front and Ginny snatched it away.

"You're a photographer now?" she teased. She went to grab the camera, but Harry snapped another and quickly put it behind his back.

"I picked it up in Diagon Alley the other day, after our trip into London," Harry explained as he worked to keep Ginny's hands at bay. "I want to be able to send you lots of photos from California."

"And you just have to have one of me post snogging?"

"You had a beautiful, irresistible, rosey glow that was begging to be documented," Harry lauded. He grabbed the photo back and added, "For posterity's sake."

"I think it's only fair that I get post snogging documentation of you," Ginny demanded, holding out her hand. Harry relinquished the camera to her and she clicked away, sending several photos out the chute.

Harry pulled himself up and turned around to get the last few items from the box. A sudden squeaky gasp and the feeling of something being pulled from his trousers made him whip around. Ginny was sat on the bed, one hand on her mouth, and the other clenched tightly around an unknown entity.

"What was that?" Harry questioned. Ginny vigorously shook her head. "You know I have ways of making you talk," he teased, taking a step back towards her. Slowly Ginny opened her hands and revealed a pair of silk, yellow panties. "Not exactly what I had in mind when thinking about getting into your knickers," Harry said nonchalantly, winking at her.

Turning back to the box, Harry lifted the record player out and set it on Ginny's desk.

"This was what originally prompted my trip into London," Harry started to explain. "I wanted to browse through a muggle shop and take a few records along."

He placed an album on the turntable and gently placed the needle against the vinyl. "Now, what can I do to help speed up this process?"

"Those clothes," Ginny pointed to the pile Harry had just vacated, "Are the last things to go in my trunk. Aside, from my new music player now."

Harry waved his wand and sent the clothing soaring into her trunk. Ginny quickly stuffed the panties down the side.

"I wouldn't let your dad get his hands on that," Harry advised as Ginny set the player and CDs in the trunk. "Or else you'll end up with CD player parts. Probably best not to let Filch see it either. He'll assume it's one of George's tricks."

Harry laid down on the bed and Ginny snuggled in next to him. He buried his face into her hair and breathed deep. Starting at her knee, Harry ran his fingers up her thigh and across her hip. Inching up, he traced figure-eights on her stomach before gliding over to her hand and rubbing his thumb over each of her knuckles. He ran his hand up her arm, over her shoulder, and then let the back of his hand graze her cheek, before finally tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. Harry had just placed his hand over her heart when a flash of light blinded him.

"I was trying to have a serious moment, etching all of your curves into my brain," Harry grumbled.

"I want more pictures," Ginny chirped. She kissed his nose as she clicked the camera again.

"Oh, well then." Harry reached up to the camera and clicked it as he crossed his eyes and puffed out his cheeks,

Within minutes, the bed was littered with instant photographs and Harry and Ginny were in the middle of an elaborate trading card game, staking claim to the ones they wanted.

"Can I ask you something?" Ginny ventured, studying a closeup picture of Harry's eyes she had taken.

"Of course. What's on your mind?" Harry asked.

"Why do you want to go to school in America? Is it really just because no one knows you there?" Ginny said, hesitantly.

Harry smiled and picked up a picture of Ginny in the middle of laughing from being tickled. He knew this question had been on her mind, but hadn't pressed her to share it.

"Not completely," Harry started. "I like the thought of having an adventure, in a place of my choosing. I never had vacations as a kid. And while I traveled the country last year, I wouldn't exactly call the a vacation."

"But, not being known is a big reason for it," Harry continued. "I want people to be see me as me, and not my name. If I succeed, I want it to be because I studied and worked my arse off for it. If I fail, I don't want to be coddled or given some kind of extra credit to make up for it. I want to be told to pick myself up and try harder." Harry bit his lip and added a picture of him and Ginny, pulling faces together, to his pile. "I don't want to be handed anything because I'm Harry Potter- the Chosen One, Boy Who Live, Savior of the Wizarding World, or whatever other silly title people have for me."

"You'll always be just Harry to me," Ginny said, giving him a chuck under the chin.

Harry stared into her chocolate eyes and smiled. "I'll miss you desperately though."

"Not for long," she reassured, running her hand through his hair. "I'm making you promise, here and now, that we will see each other come Christmas break. No matter what."

"Come hell or high water," Harry swore.

Ginny smiled and picked up the last picture. "I think this one can just get tossed."

"Nonsense," Harry dismissed, plucking it from her hand.

"But it's just a close up of my lips that you accidentally snapped, trying to wrestle the camera from me!"

"Who said it was an accident?" Harry protested. He leaned over and whispered, "They're lovely lips and this picture will help get me through my lonely nights." He hooked her around the waist with his free arm and pulled the giggling red head onto his lap for a kiss. "I shall devote a whole wall in my castle to the most bewitching lass in all the land."

"Cheesy," Ginny laughed. "But I like it."

Ginny scooted from Harry's lap and tucked her stack of pictures along the inside of her trunk. Harry set his on the desk and flipped the record over. Music filled the room once more as the two snuggled in, under the quilt. Cuddle against her back, Harry wound his arm around and laced his fingers with hers.

"I'm in love for the first time, don't you know it's gonna last," Harry harmonized, with Ginny's deep breathing. "It's a love that lasts forever, it's a love that had no past."

The following morning, Harry stood on Platform Nine and Three Quarters and, for the first time, did not board the puffing steam engine. He silently watched and waved, until the Hogwarts Express was a dot on the horizon and he could no longer see Ginny's tear streaked face.

A/N- First set of lyrics are from the song Eight Days a Week, but The Beatles. Second set are from the song Don't Let Me Down, also by The Beatles.


	10. Chapter 10

The morning of Harry's departure, he was awoken by Athena gently landing on his shoulder and hooting in his ear. Rubbing his eyes, Harry sat up slowly, moving the owl from his shoulder to his hand. After untying the roll of parchment from Athena's leg, she flapped over to the desk and perched on the top of her cage. He shut the window, so the owl couldn't take off again, before fumbling his glasses onto his face and unfurling the parchment. Ginny's curvy script put a smile on his face, despite the early hour. This was the second letter he had received from her; the first bearing news that she had been made quidditch captain for Gryffindor.

Harry,

Sorry for the early calling, but I couldn't sleep, thinking about your trip today. So, I figured I'd get a head start and wish you safe travels. I can't wait to see pictures of your new (temporary!) home. Keep your fingers crossed for me. I'm holding tryouts tomorrow for the team and I'm nervous what that's going to bring out of the woodwork. After seeing Ron and Hermione return, I think everyone is expecting you to suddenly pop out and announce you're back to play Seeker! Ron's already bowed out of the Keeper position. He says it's time to hand it over the the next generation. So noble…gag! Anyway, he and Hermione told me last night to send you their love and luck on your travels. They'll owl in a few days, once you're settled in. Beware, Hermione will want details of every single one of your classes. As if you won't already have enough work to be going on with.

Don't worry about writing back right now (yes, I can read your mind!). I'm patient enough to wait until you've recouped from travel, and can tell me all about California. Best of luck today!

Love Always,

Ginny

xxx

Harry grabbed a quill and parchment and, disobeying her orders, scratched a quick reply to Ginny. He thanked her and wished her luck with the tryouts, remembering how daunting the task had been when he faced it. Promising to write again soon, he sealed it up as Athena clicked anxiously from her cage.

"You have to stay here now," Harry explained, offering his owl a treat. She happily accepted. Harry stroked her wing, continuing, "Well be leaving shortly. I'm sure Errol can take this to Ginny."

By eight o'clock, Harry was showered, dressed, fed, and standing in the middle of the kitchen with Athena and his leather satchel. Molly was fussing about, ensuring he wasn't leaving anything behind. His boxes of larger possessions had been picked up the day before by Kingsley's assistant, Quinton, who assured Harry that it was his top priority to ensure it all arrived safely in Los Angeles.

"The house is going to be so quiet with you all gone again," Molly mourned. She reached up, trying to flatten Harry's hair.

"Molly, dear," Arthur said, gently touching her shoulder. "Harry has to get into the ministry. If he misses his portkey, it'll set him back half a day."

Molly took a deep breath and gathered Harry into a tight embrace.

"I promise everyone will get owls as soon as possible," Harry reassured. "And we'll all be back, filling your house with chaos before you know it."

Molly sniffled and patted his cheek. "I'm already counting down the days."

After one last hug, Harry stepped into the fireplace and called out, "The Ministry of Magic!"

Arthur and Harry walked across the atrium to the lifts and rode down to the sixth level. Upon stepping out, they were greeted by a grey haired witch, sitting at a small desk. Her name plate read Pearl.

"How may I direct you, gentlemen?" Pearl asked, sweetly.

"I'm Harry Potter ma'am," Harry introduced. "I'm here to catch a nine o'clock portkey to America."

"Aah, yes, been expecting you dear." Pearly rifled through the slips of parchment and pulled out one that had Harry's name on it. "Do you have anything to declare on your travels?"

"Er, just my owl and my bag," Harry answered.

Pearl checked a box and asked, without looking up, "And the owl's name?"

"Athena."

Pearl wrote the name on the slip, next to the checked box for 'animals'.

"Right, now," Pearl announced, handing the parchment to Harry. "You'll want to head down the hall here, to room twelve, where Mr. Lernston will give Athena a quick health check. Once she is cleared, you'll find Grover Marsh in room fifteen. He'll be taking your picture and preparing your passport. Any questions before I send you on your way?"

"No, I should be good. Thank you," Harry answered.

"This is where I leave you, Harry," Arthur stated, clasping Harry's shoulder. "I won't fuss over you like Molly. But, I wish you the best of luck with your journey and can't wait to hear all about it."

"Thanks Mr. Weasley," Harry replied, holding out his hand. "For everything."

Arthur grasped Harry's hand and pulled him in for a hug. "No matter what, our door is always open and ready to welcome you back." Harry nodded, unable to find more words to express his overwhelming gratitude. "Now, hurry off. You don't want that portkey to leave without you."

Arthur released him and with a final wave, Harry set off down the corridor. In room twelve he found Adam Lernston, an animal caretaker. After a short examination, Athena was given a clean bill of health, and her cage marked with a green circle. A short walk further, Harry found Grover Marsh tinkering with a large camera, set upon a tripod.

"Hello! Come in, come in!" Grover welcomed "So wonderful to meet you Mr. Potter! Come, come, have a seat," Grover sang, pointing to a stool in front of his camera.

Harry set Athena and his bag on the floor and climbed up onto the stool.

"Smile on my count. Three, two, one." Grover pushed the trigger and Harry gave it his best effort to smile through the blinding light. "If you give me just a few minutes, I'll have your passport all set up," he said, carrying the still developing picture to his desk.

"In some of the muggle areas of America, they'll require you to have an official form of identification," Grover explained as he pulled a small maroon booklet from a box. "Should you happen to have a run in with their authorities, you needn't panic. We'll take care of you. I don't foresee you having any sort of trouble, but it's always best to respect their laws and customs."

Grover affixed Harry's photo into the booklet. With a quick tap of his wand, Harry's pictured face froze and his basic information appeared on the blank lines.

"Once in America, you'll have this stamped before portkeying to your next stop," Grover concluded, handing the passport to Harry.

"Wait, next stop? How many portkeys do I have to take?" Harry wandered.

"Let's see, you're heading for …." Grover trailed off for a moment while he inspected Harry's slip of parchment. "Ahh, I see, Los Angeles. I do believe a trip that length will take about three portkeys. I'm about to send you off to the departure area. They'll have all the information for you there. Just head to the end of this corridor, take a right, and go on into room twenty-one, at the very end of the hall. Have a great trip Mr. Potter!"

"Thanks," Harry muttered. He picked up his things and trudged to the next office. He was not a fan of portkey traveling in the first place and he was not happy to hear he'd have to take at least three in the span of hours. When he opened the door to room twenty-one, Harry was accosted by a familiar booming voice.

"Ahh, there he is!" Kingsley Shacklebolt wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders and led him into a large room that had been split into seven sections, by high cubicle walls. Each section was labeled with the name of a different continent. "We should have plenty of time to go over the traveling process before your portkey leaves," Kingsley said, leading Harry to the North America area.

"Mr. Marsh just told me I'd have to take three portkeys. Is that right?" Harry asked, skeptically.

"Unfortunately, that is highly likely," Kingsley answered, regretfully. "The portkey that you take from here will take you to New York City. That is where MACUSA is stationed. The Magical Congress of the United States of America," Kingsley explained when Harry raised his eyebrows. "With international travel, we have permission to send you only to a country's capital city. From there, witches or witches register with that country and are sent off to their final destinations."

"As I said, your first stop will be New York City. There you will register your owl and your wand, and be given your wand permit. I advise you to keep your wand permit on you at all times as the Congress can be quite strict about that particular law." Kingsley paused and asked, "Any questions so far, Harry?

"So from New York, I'll be able to portkey straight to Los Angeles?" Harry asked, hopefully.

"No, sorry," Kingsley answered. "A standard portkey won't take you that distance. Chances are, after New York City, you'll take two or three more before reaching Los Angeles. Once there, you will be met by a representative from the A.A.A and they will apparate you to your dormitory. I think that's everything I need to tell you." Kingsley paused and smiled warmly at Harry. "I'll let you learn for yourself the various American idiosyncrasies you'll encounter. It's quite a unique country, with very different ways to what you're used to in our magical communities. If you have any questions regarding their laws, don't hesitate to ask someone. We don't want to give the Congress any reason to deport you back here, before you finish your school year, do we?" Kingsley laughed.

"No, sir," Harry answered quickly.

"Oh, son, I'm not worried about you in the least!" Kingsley clapped his shoulder and directed Harry's attention to a witch, setting what appeared to be a steering wheel on a table. "Eliza, here, will take care of you now."

"I don't really have to do much," the young witch laughed. "In about five minutes, the portkey will glow blue. Touch it and you're on your way!"

"Good luck, Harry, and please keep me posted on how you're getting on," Kingsley said, holding out his hand.

"Will do, Minister," Harry replied, shaking Kingsley's hand. "Thank you, so much, for everything."

Kingsley nodded and gave Harry one last pat on the shoulder before excusing himself.

"Are you prone to portkey sickness, Mr. Potter?" Eliza asked, sweetly.

"Er, not that I'm aware of," Harry answered.

"Well, just in case your stomach doesn't agree with your travel plans, take this," Eliza advised, handing Harry a tiny vial, filled with a translucent pink liquid. "It'll help calm the nausea." Harry accepted the vial and stuffed it in his bag. "Right now, go on and grab tight. It's starting to glow," Eliza instructed, pointing to the steering wheel.

Harry shuffled over to the table and grabbed the wheel. Seconds later, he felt an uncomfortable hook at his navel and was pulled into the twisting nether. His body was twisted, pushed, and pulled like a piece of taffy. Just when he thought he couldn't take another second, Harry was belched out, onto a large padded rug.

Harry swore softly as he stumbled to his feet. He straightened his glasses, but his vision took another few seconds to come into focus. Finally, he registered that he was in a large, dingy, darkened room. There were about twenty chairs in the center, half of them occupied by wizards, from various countries, reading or dozing. One wall was lined with cubicles. The adjacent was lined with empty, numbered cubicles.

"Harold Potter?" a harsh, thick voice drawled.

Harry turned quickly, causing his head to spin, and saw a stout woman, with apple red hair, looking at him with a bored expression on her face. She was sat behind a cubicle desk, beckoning him over.

"Just Harry actually," he corrected, shuffling over and falling into the chair, dropping Athena's cage harder than her meant to.

"Alright, just Harry. My name is Lucy. Welcome to the United States of America," she said quickly. "Do you have your travel papers?" Harry handed her his slip of parchment and passport. She stamped a page in the passport and handed it back to him, keeping the slip of parchment. "Still using parchment, adorable," Lucy muttered. Harry sensed she thought that it was anything but adorable.

"Place your wand on the cradle," Lucy ordered, pointing to a scale, covered in foam, on Harry's right. "And place your owl's cage on the desk."

Harry lifted Athena's cage onto the desk and laid his wand on the foam. The wand sank slightly, the scale dinged, and then tipped over so that his wand rolled onto the desk, leaving a mold in the foam.

"Your wand print and information is now logged into our system," Lucy announced, with a yawn. The scale spit out a rectangle slip of paper. Lucy tapped the paper and a copy of Harry's passport picture appeared. She then swirled her wand over it and two thin pieces of laminate encased the paper. Lucy slid the permit across the desk, to Harry. "That's your official wand permit. Keep it on you at all times."

Lucy then turned her attention to Athena. She tapped her wand on the bottom of the cage and the numbers 88217 were instantly engraved on it. She scribbled those numbers onto Harry's slip of parchment and pushed it aside. Opening the cage, Lucy pointed her wand at Athena's leg. Athena, not enjoying the unwelcome intrusion, bit at the wand. Unfazed, Lucy drew a small circle in the air and a red ribbon wrapped itself around the owl's leg, also bearing the numbers 88217.

"This is your owl's registration number. Should the need arise, we use this to track her," Lucy explained as she closed the cage on an indignant Athena. She tapped a fresh piece of green paper and tapped it with her wand. "Here is your portkey schedule. Your next one is scheduled to leave in twenty minutes, going to St. Louis, Missouri. From there, you'll go to Phoenix, Arizona, where you will catch your final portkey to Los Angeles. I advise you not to dawdle in St. Louis. You will only have five minutes between trips," Lucy concluded.

Harry sat, dazed, for a moment. Getting the sense that Lucy was done, in more ways than one, Harry thanked her for her time and went to join the other waiting witches and wizards, in the center.

By the time Harry reached Los Angeles, he wasn't quite sure which way was up or if he was still in the same country. He had been propelled through three time zones, encountering different accents in each one. Every city he stopped in had been cloaked in darkness, so he couldn't decipher exactly what time it was, as he lay sprawled on the cool tile, following his last voyage through time and space.

"Are you Harry Potter," a tentative voice above him asked. Harry opened one eye and the face of a bald, smiling man swam into view.

"Yeah, that's me," Harry groaned, slowly sitting up. Athena was clicking madly in her cage. It had spilled over up landing.

"Here, let me help ya up," the man said, offering out his hand. Harry grabbed it and was slowly pulled to his feet.

"Thank you," Harry moaned, picking up Athena's cage. "Sorry, I don't think I caught your name."

"Oh, I'm Ivan Houser. I'm the resident assistant for freshman and sophomores, at the academy," Ivan introduced.

"Nice to meet you Ivan."

"Before we leave, you should visit the lovely witch over there," Ivan directed, pointing to a small blonde woman, behind a counter. "She'll exchange your money for you."

Harry dragged himself to the counter and dug his coin pouch from his pocket. The lady happily counted out his galleons, and then passed him a stack of green paper bills and a handful of assorted coins. Harry stared at the foreign money, trying to figure out the various images pictured on it all.

"I know you all in Britain separate your wizard money from the no-maj money, but we have found it easiest here to use the same dollars and coins as No-Majes," Ivan explained.

Harry, too exhausted to question Ivan's statement, meekly nodded and shoved the money into his pocket. He was able to summon just enough energy to ask, "What time is it?"

"Just after two in the morning," Ivan answered. "Great Britain is eight hours ahead of us."

What had felt like a day's worth of traveling had, in actuality, only been an hour.

"If you're ready, I'll apparate us to your dormitory." Ivan held out his arm and Harry defeatedly clung onto it.

With a quick turn, Harry was sucked in, and then quickly siphoned out into cool, fresh air. He took a long, deep breath and let the new environment wash over him. There was a strong breeze, carrying the scent of salt water with it. Lamp lights glowed around the footpaths, casting shadows of palm trees over the spiky grass. Harry did a slow, three hundred and sixty degree turn.

He was standing in the middle of a circular courtyard. He could make out large buildings lining the perimeter, but the darkness masked their details. Ivan was starting off towards one of the buildings to the north side. Harry hustled to keep up with him.

"This is your dormitory," Ivan said, opening the door for Harry. "It's called Grizzly Hall, but most people refer to it as The Grizz. All our buildings, on campus, are named after California State facts. Grizzly Hall is after our state animal, the Grizzly Bear."

Ivan started climbing a set of stairs and continued his introduction. "The first floor is mainly the lobby and laundry facilities. Your No-Maj mailbox is down there. It'll correspond with your room number, which is 503. My room and Larissa's are there also. You'll meet Larissa tomorrow. She's the resident assistant for the juniors and seniors."

"Floors two, three, four, and five house all the students, according to year. All of your freshman class will be on floor five. If you should continue with us for all of your training, you'll remain on the same floor, same room. We believe this helps promote unity and communication with your fellow classmates."

"The final two floors are student lounge areas. The top floor is a No-Maj area. You'll find computers, television, video games, the works. All those No-Maj creature comforts we can't do without!"

They finally reached the fifth floor and Ivan pulled out a set of keys, when they stopped in front of door 503.

"You can only open these doors with a key," Ivan warned. "We take students' safety and privacy very seriously. Try Alohamora and it will set off an alarm, sending the building into lockdown and prohibiting apparition. I suggest hiding the extra key in the bag you'll use everyday, just in case you lock yourself out. It's inevitable- every year a freshman locks themselves out and without even thinking tries to magic the door open. Unless you're trying to get into a room that isn't yours, there's no consequence. Usually the embarrassment is enough to make them remember for next time. If you find yourself locked out, find Larissa or I, and we'll key you in."

Ivan unlocked the door and handed Harry the keys.

"Thanks," Harry mumbled tiredly. He half heartedly swished his wand and an overhead candle chandelier sprang to life.

"Looking forward to getting to know you Harry! We'll see you at orientation tomorrow night." Ivan waved and closed the door.

He set down Athena's cage and his bag, then stumbled to the bathroom. Hanging his head over the sink, he wretched his breakfast down the drain.

After successfully purging the contents of his stomach, Harry splashed cold water over his face and then peeled off his t-shirt. He studied the worn reflection staring back at him, in the mirror, and frowned.

"Why, yes Eliza, I am prone to portkey sickness," Harry grumbled. Rummaging through his satchel, his hand finally closed on the pink potion vial. Downing it in one gulp, Harry kicked off his trainers and collapsed on the bare mattress. He was able to extinguish the lights just before falling into a dead sleep.

The sound of chirping birds and crashing waves stirred Harry awake. He rolled over and tried to hold onto his slumber, but his mind wouldn't let him. Lighting the chandelier again, he found his possessions stowed in a far corner, by the kitchenette. He dug through one box until he found his watch to check the time. The watch read one-thirty p.m. After kicking his brain into gear, Harry did some quick calculating and reset the watch for five-thirty a.m.

Searching through the box once more, Harry found his camera. He got a fresh shirt and jacket from his duffel bag. After fastening a key to the Dirigible keychain, he stowed the extra key in the satchel, along with some money, his passport, and wand permit. The portkey sickness potion and sleep had renewed his energy, and Harry was anxious to explore his new surroundings.

As the welcome booklet had touted, the campus was set right on the beach. After breaching the perimeter of the buildings, Harry was met with a long stretch of sand that flowed seamlessly into the breaking ocean waves.

Harry pulled off his shoes and socks, and sank his bare feet into the cool, coarse sand. Taking his time, he trekked across the beach to where moisture darkened the sand. Harry rolled up the cuffs of his jeans and took his first steps into the Pacific.

The water was freezing as it caressed his feet and sank his heels deeper into the now smooth and mushy sand. Harry pulled his jacket tighter as chills ran through his body. He continued to stand in the ebb and flow, watching as the sun started breaking through the final dark moments. Harry turned his back to the ocean and took in the full beauty of yellow and orange streaks, melting together and painting the clouds pink.

He pulled out his camera and started snapping pictures. After a dozen or so of the sunrise and ocean, Harry unearthed his feet and started walking the beach. He snapped a picture of a small crab, scuttling sideways and then burrowing into the sand when Harry got too close. He clicked away at grey and white seagulls soaring over the ocean and fighting each other for scraps of food.

After an hour, Harry walked back to campus. Not bothering to put his shoes back on, he let the sand slough off his feet as he ambled through the dewy grass. In the sunlight, he finally got a good look at the buildings.

While they varied in size and shape, each was cream colored stucco, with rusted red, terracotta roofs. Harry walked the circle, taking note of the buildings' names- Redwood Hall, Serpentine Hall, Sabre-Tooth Gymnasium, Golden Gate Cafe. Harry took a few pictures of campus, mainly for Hermione, and tried to capture some of the little details, like the blue and gold gems that framed every window.

Before he knew it, Harry's camera ran out of film. He took that as a sign to head back to his dorm and start sorting through his things.

The sun had fully risen by that time, so Harry left the chandelier dark and threw open the royal blue curtains. The small flat was illuminated and Harry was finally able to see the complete layout.

Just inside the door, to the right, was a small kitchen area. There was a sink, with cabinets above and below, and a sliver of counter space to the right. Two seats and a cafe table were centered on the scant tiled area.

To the left of the door, was the three piece washroom- toilet, sink, and narrow standing shower, all in crisp white, with silver finishings.

The rest of the room was covered with a dark hardwood floor. On the left side, a four step staircase case took you up to a platformed bedroom area, though it was in full view of the rest of the room. At the foot of the bed was a wardrobe and a dresser, with three drawers. On each side of the full sized bed was a nightstand.

The modest sitting area boasted a futon couch, an armchair, a coffee table, bookshelf, a desk, and rolling desk chair. There was a window in front of his desk, and one behind the bed, that overlooked the courtyard outside. Looking out, Harry noticed people were out and about, getting a start to their day.

Pointing his wand at the boxes, Harry summoned all of his possessions and spread them out on the floor. Harry placed the record player on the coffee table and set a record, from The Beatles' White Album, to play.

It didn't take long for him to get his few things into place. He smiled as he made up his bed. Before leaving the Burrow, he had snuck into Ginny's room and stole her quilt and pillow. Harry hoped her scent would help to keep the nightmares at bay, while he slept.

Also, before leaving, he had stopped off to visit an old friend at the Prophet. With a little bit of creative blackmailing, Rita Skeeter gave up the original copy of the picture of him and Ginny at the nightclub. He was well aware that every witch and wizard in Britain had seen it already, but he selfishly wanted the color copy to frame for himself. It now had a place of honor on one of the bedside tables. And true to his word, Harry devoted a wall to the pictures he and Ginny had taken on their last night together.

He had just sat down with a cup of tea, admiring his private little slice of the world, when a knock on the door made him jump.

On the other side of his door Harry found a man with long, wavy blond hair, hazel eyes, and a big grin looking back at him. The guy wore a white muscle shirt, torn jeans, and brown leather sandals. He was about two inches taller than Harry and much broader. The muscle shirt lived up to it's name, showing off the man's well defined arms and abdominals.

"Hey there!" the blonde man greeted, eagerly. "I heard your music and thought I'd come introduce myself!"

Harry smiled and waited for the introduction, but the guy just kept smiling and nodding his head. After half of minute of silence Harry arched his eyebrows and slowly nodded his head once, hoping the man would get the hint.

"Oooohhh, yeah, sorry! Cliff Morris," the guy finally laughed, holding out his hand.

"Hi, Harry Potter," Harry replied. Harry grasped Cliff's hand and waited for Cliff's eyes to dart to his forehead, but Cliff just continued to grin and shook Harry's hand, vigorously.

"Sweet accent! Where you from, dude?"

"England. Just arrived, early this morning."

"London?" Cliff inquired.

"No, was born in the West Country, but grew up in Surrey."

"Cool, cool," Cliff acknowledged, still bobbing his head. He looked past Harry and his eyes went wide. "Wow, you work fast! I just chucked my stuff on the floor and came out to investigate the new digs."

"Come on in, if you'd like," Harry offered, stepping aside. "I made tea, if you'd like a cuppa."

"Oh man, you Brits really are as polite as you seem on TV," Cliff chuckled as he closed the door. "Nah, thanks, but tea isn't really my game." He wandered around the dorm, inspecting the record player. "Loving the vintage setup and tunes," he praised. He meandered to the desk and picked up the picture of Harry and Ginny in the hammock. Letting out a wolf whistle, he asked, "Who's the smokin' red head? I get the feeling you aren't gonna say sister."

Harry laughed and said, "No, only child unfortunately. That's my girlfriend, Ginny."

"Man, how hard was it to leave her behind," Cliff wondered aloud, replacing the picture. "She a No-Maj?"

"Ivan kept using that word this morning. What is a No-Maj?" Harry asked, exasperated.

Cliff looked at Harry and his grin faltered a little bit, as though Harry had just asked what color is the sky. "You know, No-Maj. Non magical, normal, people," Cliff explained, throwing up air quotes on the word normal.

"Oh, I understand now," Harry said, relieved. "We call them muggles back home. But, no, Ginny's whole family is magical. Youngest of seven wizard brothers."

"Dang, you've got quite the line to toe with her!"

"It helps when one of those brothers is your best mate," Harry laughed.

"I'd think so." Cliff turned to Harry, rubbing his stomach. "Wanna go grab some breakfast? I don't think the cafe opens until tonight, for dinner. But there's a bunch of restaurants and grocery stores nearby.

"Yeah, sounds good." Harry grabbed his bag and stuffed his key in his pocket.

Cliff led the way off campus, into the community of Venice. Harry noticed that at one point, they seemed to cross an invisible line and the temperature got warmer. Cliff caught Harry looking over his shoulder, trying to find the source of sudden heat.

"The campus is one of the few sections of LA that is completely No-Maj proof," Cliff explained. "You know you've crossed into the boundaries when the air gets cooler. It let's you know you're safe to use magic again."

"So are there not many wizards in the city?" Harry inquired.

"No, there's a ton," Cliff explained "It's such a big city, and attracts people from all walks of life, that wizards just blend in with everyone else. We have a statute of secrecy we're held to, so we can't do magic in front of no-majes, but rarely do they notice an occasional slip up. And the authorities here won't waste time trying to track a wizard down for minor spells. They only show their faces for big stuff."

"So you were born here, in Los Angeles?"

"Yup, been here my whole life. Love it!" Cliff turned a corner and led Harry into a small diner. "There are only a dozen or two places in the entire city that are solely magical areas. This block is one of them. Any no-maj will walk by and see burned out, graffitied buildings, plastered with NO TRESPASSING signs."

"It's very different back in England," Harry remarked, sliding into a booth. They gave their drink orders to the waitress and looked over the menus. "Back home, we have quite a few designated wizarding communities and a lot of kids grew up surrounded entirely by magic, never knowing much about muggle life."

Cliff ordered a western omelette and Harry stayed simple with toast, not wanting to test his stomach on a full, greasy breakfast.

"What about you?" Cliff asked, when their waitress left the table. "You raised with wizards or muggles?"

It was a welcome relief to talk to someone who had never read his life's story from a history book.

"Muggles," Harry replied. "My dad was from a wizarding family, but my mum's family was muggle. She was the only one in her family." Harry sipped his water. It was the first he had been easily able to talk about his parents in a long while. "They unfortunately passed away suddenly, when I was one, so I ended up with my mum's muggle sister. Her and my uncle hated anything to do with magic, so they never told me that I was a wizard. Didn't find out until I was eleven, when they ended up being forced to tell me because letters started arriving from the wizard school."

"Wow, bum deal, bro," Cliff consoled. "Can't imagine losing both parents. My Pops passed when I was five. Don't remember much of him. He was a No-Maj, worked construction. Freak accident one day and he was gone. My mom was left with with me and my older sister, Penny. We were lucky though. Both sets of grandparents were still alive and helped my mom out a lot."

Harry sat with Cliff, in the diner, for over an hour. They shared stories, comparing countries and traditions long after their food had disappeared. Finally, tossing a few bills on the table, Cliff took Harry around the block, to a grocery store.

"I really need to figure out this American currency," Harry muttered, sifting through his money.

"You really need to pick up a wallet," Cliff said, lowly so that only Harry could hear. "I don't recommend walking around with that much cash, jangling around loose like that."

"Right," Harry sighed. "Back in home, we don't have bills. All coins."

"This city is great, but turn the wrong corner and it can all go south quickly," Cliff warned, grabbing a bag of pretzels. "You're allowed to use magic in self defense, but always best not to end up in the situation if you can avoid it."

Harry nodded an acknowledgment and set off down the aisle. He picked up a few staples- bread, milk, sugar, and eggs. He tossed in some crisps and chocolate biscuits for emergency snacking. Mostly he just walked around and ogled the variety of food on the shelves. He was pretty sure one could find anything on earth in this store. Brightly colored boxes of cereal, endless rows of ice cream flavors, fizzy pop from all over the world adorned the racks. As Harry walked to the checkout, a bag of rainbow colored sweets diverted his attention. The label read Jolly Ranchers and Harry smiled. He grabbed a pack and continued to the till.

Back in the dorm, Cliff shook Harry's hand and pointed to the door, across from Harry's. "This is me, 510," Cliff pointed out. "Wanna meet around 6, for dinner? We can check out what the cafe has cookin'."

"Yeah, alright," Harry agreed.

"Sweet, see you then!" Cliff waved and disappeared into his room.

Harry let himself into his own dorm and set to putting away his groceries. Conjuring a small box, he dumped the Jolly Ranchers into it and took it to his desk. Grabbing a fresh quill and uncorking a new bottle of ink, he started a letter to Ginny.

Ginny,

I survived my trip, just barely though it felt. I have discovered that portkey sickness is a thing and I suffer from it. But I guess it's to be expected when you have to take THREE of them, within one HOUR! Between that, and getting used to the time change, it was a rough morning. On the plus side, I got to stand on the beach and watch the sunrise. It was as amazing as it sounds, and I can't wait to share the experience with you some time. For now, my amateur photography will have to do.

I really like my new flat. It's small, but for the first time I have a space that feels like it's completely mine. I regret to inform you that I have confiscated your pillow and quilt from home. It's for a worthy cause and I promise they will be returned safely, along with me.

I got to meet one of my classmates already. His name is Cliff and he looks and talks like no one else I've ever met. His hair makes Charlie's look short. And the words he uses! I know he's speaking English, but in a context that is uniquely American. Within the first five minutes my head was whirling with words like dude, sweet, digs, and smokin'. I'm pretty sure the last one is a compliment, because he said it when he saw your picture, and was disappointed when I informed him that you were not my sister (I'm enjoying imaging your blush right now as you read this over breakfast!). And muggles aren't called muggles here. They're called No-Maj, which stands for no magic. What have I signed myself up for?

How did quidditch tryouts go? Did you find a few diamonds in the rough, or is it a rebuilding season? If I know you as well as I think I do, I'm sure you've put together a stellar squad. I can't wait to hear full details of your matches and imminent wins.

If you haven't noticed, I included a little treat for you. I saw them in the shop and they made me think of you, which made me smile. I wanted to send them along so you can see if the actual sweet lives up to the drink. I also tucked in some of the pictures I took of the beach and campus. I figured you'd enjoy the beach and Hermione (who I assume is reading this over your shoulder) would like to see the campus. (Hermione- I promise I will write after my first day of classes and tell you all about it! And tell Ron to expect a letter also. I need to go to the gymnasium and see if they have a quidditch league.)

I promise to write you again soon also, of course. Good luck with the new team!

All my love,

Harry

xxx

Harry sorted through his pictures and pulled a few out to include in the package. On the bottom of the last picture- the sun rising over the campus- Harry wrote out the lyrics:

"The sun is up, the sky is blue

It's beautiful and so are you"


	11. Chapter 11

To say Harry's first week was overwhelming would have been an understatement. Between learning names, being introduced to American customs, and sinking his teeth into classwork, his mind felt like it was going to implode under the weight of all the new information.

His schedule consisted of five classes, and each one was shared with the same nine other freshman students. Harry's week was Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays- 9:00 a.m., Advanced Herbology, 10:30 a.m., Advanced Potion Concepts & Concoctions, 1:30 p.m., Defense Against the Dark Arts. Tuesdays and Thursdays- 8:30 a.m., Concealment and Disguise, 1:00 p.m, Charms.

Harry was up early Tuesday morning, the first day of classes. Ginny's bedclothes had aided him in falling asleep, but his sleep hadn't been peaceful. The big bed was lonesome and slowly, but surely, the nightmares crept in. At five twenty-five, he was forced awake by the image of teenage Tom Riddle hovering over Ginny's lifeless body, while Harry struggled, uselessly, against the weight of the crushing basilisk.

Harry laid in bed, watching all the moving pictures of the lively girl that adorned his wall, and reassured himself that it was just a dream. Since sleep appeared to be a waste of time, he slowly made his way to the bathroom, for a shower. By six o'clock, Harry was sitting on the beach, enjoying the coolness of the sand, before the sun began its' baking. After walking the beach for an hour, he walked back to campus.

As Harry passed the dormitory, a girl named Emma Porter was just walking out. He had first met her, on Saturday afternoon, when she moved into the room next him. Emma was Hermione's American clone, at least in personality. She had gushed over Harry's collection of books, and promptly asked to borrow Hogwarts: A History. She had heard of the school and wanted to see how it compared to America's, Ilvermorny. Feeling confident that his name was not in that particular book, Harry happily lent it to her.

As for looks, Emma was Hermione's complete opposite. She had electric blue hair, ears full of piercings, eyes shadowed with black liner and lips to match. Harry was a bit taken aback when she came knocking on his door, asking for his help. The senior that had inhabited her room the previous years, had left behind a muggle poster, featuring a scantily clothed model. Emma was not amused by it, and even less so by the unyielding sticking charm that had been left on it.

When Emma spotted Harry, Tuesday morning, she jogged up to him, holding out a book to him.

"Thank you so much for letting me borrow it," Emma said, smiling. Her lipstick that day was a deep shade of violet. "It sounds like a really fun school. Quite a few similarities to Ilvermorny, like the four houses. What house were you in?"

"I was in Gryffindor," Harry answered. "I was just about to go have breakfast. Are you heading that way?"

"Yep," Emma chirped, falling into step with Harry. "Ilvermorny has four houses too- Horned Serpent, Wampus, Thunderbird, and Pukwudgie. I was a Horned Serpent."

Emma continued to chat about her old school as they entered the Golden Gate Cafe. Emma loaded up her tray with a grapefruit, a banana. granola and yogurt, and a glass of orange juice. Harry opted for oatmeal, with honey and currents, side of toast, and a cup of tea. They found Cliff already at a table, eating his way through a mountain of bacon and eggs.

"So, does every witch and wizard in this huge country attend Ilvermorny?" Harry inquired, stirring his oatmeal.

"Most do," Emma answered. "It's the biggest one and anyone with magical ability is accepted. But there are quite a few private schools around too."

"Usually only upper class, rich families send their precious little snowflakes to those kind of schools," Cliff commented. "I couldn't imagine not going to Ilvermorny. I was captain of the Wampus Quodpot team," he smiled, flexing his muscles.

"I was quidditch captain during my last year at Hogwarts," Harry replied. "Is there a quidditch team here?"

"Uh, I think there might be local rec team," Cliff mused. "In Los Angeles though, we really only follow two sports- Broomstick Beach Volleyball and Dodger's baseball."

"You've lost me on both counts," Harry said, shaking his head.

"You've played volleyball, right?" Cliff started.

"I tried a bit, during physical education classes, in my muggle school."

"Well, take that and add broomsticks," Cliff explained. "The challenge is balancing and steering your broomstick with just your legs. As for baseball, it's an American no-maj sport. The Dodgers are our local team. My Uncle Walt has season passes, and he always tosses me tickets to the games he can't make. I'll take you to the next one."

"Sounds like a valuable learning experience," Harry laughed.

Cliff continued to instruct Harry on the ins and outs of baseball, spouting off various Dodgers players and statistics, until it was time for them all to head to their first class, Concealment and Disguise, in Eureka Hall.

Harry chose a seat in the center row, thinking it the optimum row to just blend in with the rest of the class. Cliff plunked himself down in the seat to Harry's right. Emma took the seat in the front row, directly in front of Harry.

He was taking out the course book, That Which We Cannot See, when the seat to his left was suddenly occupied. Harry glanced over and saw a boy, named Grant McMann, has just sat down.

"Gotta love it when the girls outnumber the guys," Grant simpered, playfully elbowing Harry.

"Potter's already spoken for," Cliff defended.

"Even better," Grant chuckled. "More for the rest of us."

Harry pulled out a notebook and pen. At the orientation, he quickly learned that no one used quills or parchment, and he had to make a supply run the following afternoon.

Harry had just turned to chapter one, when the teacher walked in and set his briefcase on the large desk, in the very front of the classroom. The teacher appeared to not be much older than thirty and, even Harry had to admit, was quite handsome. He had dark brown hair, that was layered and fell just below his ears. His eyes were an icy blue and his strong jaw and high cheekbones were covered with stubble. He tapped the chalkboard with his wand and the name, JASON CARTER, appeared. When brushed his hair behind his ear, Harry heard a little gasp from the front row and noticed Emma sat up straighter.

"Good morning everyone," Jason greeted, with a southern drawl. "I will be your teacher for Concealment and Disguise. Please, I beg y'all, don't call me Mr. Carter. It's way too formal, and I'm anything but that. Jason will be perfectly fine, though most people just end up calling me Jase."

"Our main focus for the semester will be on disillusionment charms and basic facial transfiguration," Jason announced. "An Auror at the top of his, or her, game can become unrecognizable, even to those that know them best. Sometimes a simple pair of sunglasses and a beard is enough to not blow your cover. Other times, you find yourself with long, blonde curls and dimples, in an attempt to procure information." His analogy brought looks of disgust to some of the boy's faces and giggles from the girls. "You laugh now, but rest assured it got the job done." He opened up his briefcase and pulled out his own book, as he added, "Plus, I don't look too bad as a blonde."

They spent the bulk of class time going over the theory of disillusionment charms and wand technique. The last ten minutes, Jason allowed them to pair off to have a go at the spell. Harry quickly turned to Cliff, before Grant could suggest Harry pair up with him.

Harry had a hard time tweaking the exact wand movement and wasn't able to pull off the spell. Cliff, on the other hand, achieved a minor success in camouflaging all of Harry's hair.

"Whoa, killer scar," Cliff cried, leaning in close to Harry's forehead. Harry clapped his hand quickly over the lightning bolt shape. "How'd you land that one?"

"Car accident, when I was a kid," Harry said quickly, falling back on his aunt and uncle's old lie.

Jason passed by the pair and tapped his wand on Harry's head. "You look much better with eyebrows," he commented, before moving on to Emma and her partner.

Their first homework was describing the benefit of disillusionment charms for Aurors, and also the side effects of overuse.

During lunch, Harry got to know a few others from his class. A petite girl with long, thick, jet black hair named Naomi Suarez and quiet girl, with a blonde pixie cut, named Alana Kyle, joined him, Cliff, and Emma in the cafe. Both Naomi and Alana were from small towns; Naomi from Texas and Alana from Utah.

From them, Harry learned that not all towns in the states were as accepting of magic. While wizards in Los Angeles could be a bit lackadaisical with their magic, many smaller, close-knit towns frowned upon the thought of magic even existing. Magical families were almost forced into hiding, for fear that accidental magic from small children would be met with violence from no-majes.

Harry fell very quiet listening to the girls' stories of having to be home schooled and being restricted to their fenced in back gardens. Harry very clearly recalled the story of Dumbledore's younger sister, Arianna, being tortured by muggle neighbors, because of what she was. It pained him to know that people still suffered this pain and segregation.

A little before one o'clock, the small group made their way to Sabre-Tooth Hall and filed into the Charms classroom. Harry slid into a desk between Cliff and Alana. A plump witch, with flowing silver hair and big, round, wire rimmed glasses, beamed at them, as they found seats.

"A good afternoon to you all," the witch greeted. Her voice was high and chipper and her grey eyes gleamed, showing that she truly enjoyed being surrounded by the students. "My name is Delilah Docket, and I will be your charming Charms teacher!" Her joke sparked a few polite laughs as she clapped her hands together."

"It is my privilege to introduce you to the basic charms every Auror needs to have in their arsenal. I like to have fun with my classes, but I will not tolerate foolishness or carelessness. While the charms we will be performing over the next few months are safe, with only minor consequences in error, they form the basis for your more advanced spells as you progress through your training. Fail to master the basics, and you can bet your bottom dollar that future consequences will be much harsher."

The gleam in her eyes had dulled as she looked from student to student. "I have yet to see a class reach graduation with all ten members. I hope that this group breaks that record." Delilah nodded and clapped her hands once more. "Now, I trust you all have your books. Let's get those out and find the section on Silencing Spells."

Much like the previous class, the bulk of Charms was spent learning about the history and theory of Silencing Spells. Towards the end, the teacher paired them off and told them to "hang tight" while she procured their victims from her office.

Harry was coupled with a girl named Sophie Miller. He had noticed her around the dorm, and in Concealment class she had sat in the very back row. She was tall, with long, perfectly curled, blonde hair, sapphire eyes and blood red lips. When their names had been called to pair up, Sophie showed no sign of budging from her seat, so Harry quickly gathered his things and moved to the back row.

"Hi there," Harry greeted, reopening his notebook. "I'm Harry."

"I know," Sophie smirked. "I've seen you around. I adore your accent. Where are you from?"

"England," Harry answered. "And you? Are you from Los Angeles?"

"No, San Francisco. Ever been?"

"Not yet. This is my first time in the states."

"Oh, it's a great city. You should come visit sometime. I could show you around," Sophie leered. She leaned forward, pushing up her already ample chest, and slid her hand along Harry's forearm.

"Here we are!" Delilah proclaimed. Harry exhaled slowly, in relief, as the professor floated a shoebox to each pair. "There are your willing victims. Let's see if you can keep them quiet."

Sophie removed the lid and leapt back, with a scream of, "Eww, mice!"

Sure enough, scurrying around in a bed of cedar chips, were three tiny, squeaking, white mice. Harry shot a skeptical look back at Sophie, who was practically out the door.

"It's just a couple of feeder mice," Harry laughed. "They won't hurt you."

"They're disgusting! What if they jump on me?" Sophie fretted.

Harry groaned and conjured up a net, wishing he could use the silencing spell on his partner.

"There," Harry urged, securing the net, over the box. "You're safe now."

Sophie reluctantly returned to the desk, her wand pointed at the box, as if afraid the entire thing would hurl itself at her, at any moment.

"Silencio!" she cried, poking her wand toward the mice. Not surprisingly, the little critters continued to squeak and claw at the cardboard. Sophie attempted the spell four more times, each with the same result. "Why won't these rodents shut up!" she gritted.

"When you say the incantation, try keeping your voice firm, yet slow and even," Harry suggested. "And you barely have to move your wand. Just a sharp jab." Harry pointed his wand at a mouse that had managed to climb onto the net, and was hanging upside down. With a minute jab of his wand, he asserted, "Silencio," and the squeaking ceased. Harry repeated the spell two more times and the only sound from their box was the scratching of miniature claws.

"You're really good at this," Sophie admired, placing her hand on Harry's shoulder.

Delilah was just passing their table and echoed Sophie's sentiments. "I see Filius taught you well! Am I right in presuming that you can lift the spell?"

With a wave of his wand, Harry let the mice resume their squeaking. "You know Professor Flitwick?" he asked, warily. Was she about to call out his past?

"An old friend from my many travels," Delilah affirmed. "When I saw that I had a British student on the roster, I assumed it would be one of his pupils. Now, Sophie, how are you coming along with this spell?"

Harry relaxed his body and breathed a sigh of relief. If she knew his past, she, thankfully, didn't appear as though she wanted to discuss it now

Sophie twitched her lips, and raised her wand. She jabbed it harshly at the mouse, on the netting, and called "Silencio!" Instead of muting it, she singed it's fur and caused it to enlarge, its' squeaks rising to an earsplitting wail. Harry quickly silenced the mouse once more, before the entire class was deafened.

Delilah returned the mouse to normal size and smiled at Sophie. "I believe I did well with this pairing. Harry will be a great coach for you." She gave them a thumbs up and moved on to Cliff and Naomi.

Sophie gazed at him, beaming with excitement. Harry tried to smile, but couldn't quite pull it off. He was not keen on spending the semester, working alongside a girl that looked as though she wanted to devour him.

"How about we meet up for dinner tonight," Sophie suggested. "You could show me proper wand technique."

"Sorry, I have plans with Cliff already," Harry quickly made up, shoving his things into his satchel. He placed the lid back on box of the mice and sent it flying to the desk, in the front of the room. "We'll work on it more Thursday." 'With witnesses' Harry silently added.

Delilah dismissed them and Harry pushed Cliff hastily out the door.

"We're grabbing dinner tonight, somewhere off campus," Harry hissed, putting as much distance between him and Sophie. "I don't care where we go, I'll pay."

"Burritos it is, my man," Cliff declared, clapping his hands together.

After that, it seemed like Sophie was around every corner, waiting to pounce on Harry. She sat next to him in every class, casually brushing his arm with hers. Every now and then she got brazen enough to grab his knee. By the end of their second Concealment and Disguise class, Harry was practically sitting on Cliff's lap, in attempt to avoid her advances.

"I don't know what to do about her!" Harry cried out, walking with Cliff to the Defense Against the Dark Arts building, on Friday afternoon. Harry had just excused himself early, from lunch, as Sophie had sat down at their table, licking a popsicle and not breaking her gaze from Harry.

"She's persistent, you have to give her that," Cliff tried to comfort.

"It's been only one week and I already don't want to give her the time of day." Harry looked at his watch and saw it was only quarter 'til one. "Speaking of which, I'm going to detour to the library and write a letter to Ginny quick. I haven't gotten to write her all week and she's written me twice. Can you try and claim me a seat at the end of the row?"

"Consider it done, Potts!" Cliff declared, using the nickname he had bestowed upon Harry. "Godspeed, good sir." And he departed with a salute.

Harry jogged to the library, looking over his shoulder every few seconds to make sure he wasn't be followed. It had been a while since he sought refuge in a library. He smiled, sadly, thinking about how he would give anything to find Hermione among the shelves, ready with the perfect advice to get him out of this situation.

Finding a deserted table, in the back corner, Harry dug through his bag till he found some parchment and a quill in his bag. He had come to see the convenience of pen and paper, but still preferred the feeling of a quill scratching against thick parchment.

He wrestled with what he should include in this letter. Leave Sophie out and save Ginny the worry, or mention his dilemma and cause him to worry about how Ginny would handle it?

"We're adults, in an adult relationship. She deserves to know," Harry reassured himself. He took a deep breath and began his letter.

He started out light, asking how classes were going and when her first Quidditch practice would be. Sophie didn't get mentioned until halfway through, when he was describing his other classmates. He told her about his unfortunate partnering and how he was trying to throw off her stalking attempts. When he had finally finished, he mentally crossed his fingers that Ginny wouldn't overreact about it all.

Checking the time, Harry figured that if he ran, he could make it back to his room, send Athena off, and still make it to Defense class in time. He was just coming out of his room, about to bolt down the stairs, when he ran head first into someone. As Harry worked to steady himself, and the other person, he caught a glimpse of blonde hair and jumped back.

"Everything okay, Harry?" Alana asked, grabbing his arm before he toppled backwards.

"Oh, thank Merlin!" Harry gasped. "Sorry about the collision there, Alana."

"You thought I was Sophie, didn't you?" Alana inquired.

"I saw the blonde hair and it set me on high alert," Harry admitted. "I'm very glad it's you though. Heading to class?"

"Yeah, I'll be your bodyguard," Alana said, with a wink.

Harry laughed and fell into step with his classmate. The thought of petite and quiet Alana, taking on Sophie, would be quite the scene. It conjured the memory of Hermione throwing a right hook at Draco Malfoy. The quiet ones always surprised you.

True to his word, Cliff had saved Harry an end seat. Unfortunately, Sophie claimed the seat directly behind him, before Alana had a chance to slip in. The sudden feeling of fingers in his hair, made Harry cringe and pull himself as far into the desk as possible, without cutting off his oxygen.

"You're hair is as soft as I imagined it would be," Sophie whispered, leaning over her table to Harry's ear.

"Sit down, Miss Miller," a voice barked, sending Sophie quickly back into her chair.

Sergeant Roy Richmond had entered the room and took immediate control. Coming in at just over six foot tall, the Sergeant kept his salt and pepper hair in the high and tight military style and was outfitted in all black, from his combat boots to the aviators resting on his head. Even though he was a wizard, Roy Richmond had served in the United States Army for fifteen years, before retiring to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. He referred to the class as his platoon and did not take it lightly when his soldiers broke rank. The very first class, the Sergeant made it very clear that at one-thirty the classroom door would be locked, and no one would enter or exit, for less than loss of blood or consciousness, until exactly 1600 hours.

"Today, I want to start discussing Patronuses," Sergeant Richmond announced. He placed his sunglasses and briefcase on the desk. "The Patronus Charm is a difficult spell, but an important one for an Auror to master. Can anyone tell me the two forms a patronus can take?"

Harry looked around the room and noticed blanks stares on the others' faces. Slowly, he raised his hand.

"Go ahead, Potter," Sergeant acknowledged.

"It can be either non-corporeal, which simply looks like wisps of smoke," Harry started. "Or it can be corporeal, which means it will take the form of an animal, unique to the witch or wizard conjuring it."

"Excellent and concise," the Sergeant boomed. "Our goal is that by the end of this year, each one of you will be able to produce a non-corporeal patronus. By the end of your third year, it will be mandatory for everyone to produce a corporeal patronus. Who can tell me why this spell is so crucial?"

Again, the other students were mum. Harry half raised his hand.

"Potter," the Sergeant urged.

"It's the only defense against a Dementor."

"Yes, and also Lethifolds," the Sergeant affirmed. "But you only need to worry about those should you find yourself in the tropics. Mr. Potter, can I ask why you might be the only one here that knows this information?"

Harry felt the color leave his face. He had been so worried about someone else discovering his past, when all along he was going to be the one to blow his own cover. In the first week, no less.

Harry attempted to be as vague, yet honest, as he could. "We, umm…we had Dementors guarding our prison, Azkaban, back in England. At one point, a high profile prisoner escaped and the government sent Dementors out to patrol the streets and guard the school. I seemed to be particularly sensitive to them, so an old family friend coached me on the spell."

Sergeant Richmond stayed quiet for a moment, appraising Harry and his answer.

"So then you have experience with the charm?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said, slowly.

"Would you care to indulge me, and the rest of our squadron, in a demonstration?" the Sergeant grilled.

Harry nodded and reluctantly stood, drawing his wand. Closing his eyes, he thought of snogging Ginny in the dance club. A grin spread across his face and, as his wand drew circles in the air, Harry bellowed, "Expecto Patronum!"

He opened his eyes just as the silver stag burst from his wand. With a quick flick, he sent it cantering around the room. A few students stared, wide eyed and unblinking, at Harry. The rest oohed and ahhed as the stag continued to circle around the desks. On it's fourth lap, Harry waved his wand and the animal faded away.

"Most impressive, Potter," the Sergeant complimented. "I don't think I've ever had a student pull of that spell in the first week. When did you learn that?"

"Err, my third year," Harry muttered, shrinking back into his chair. He really was shooting himself in the foot with this whole not wanting to be the center of attention task.

It appeared as though Sergeant Richmond caught Harry's withdrawal and didn't press him to supply anymore answers. The rest of the lesson was devoted to the nature of Dementors and Lethifolds, and where they were most likely to be encountered. As the clock ticked over to four o'clock, the sound of the door unlocking cued the shuffling of papers and scraping of chairs.

"Potter, could I have a word?" Sergeant Richmond called, before Harry could reach the door. Harry sent Cliff and Alana ahead, and trudged back to the Sergeant's desk. Using his pen, the Sergeant moved Harry's fringe to the side and stared, impassively, at the lightning bolt scar. "Just as I thought."

Harry stood frozen. Just when he thought he was out of the woods, it seemed as though he had, indeed, let the cat out of the bag.

"Don't worry son, I'm not about to go sharing confidential information," the Sergeant assured. "But yes, I know who you are. Not many are going to recognize your name, but, being in the military, I was privy to international information and we were keeping a pretty close eye on the Dark Lord's affairs."

"When I saw Harry Potter, on my roster, I thought maybe it was just a coincidence that I got a student with the same name," the Sergeant continued, latching up his briefcase. "But after that impressive display earlier, it confirmed my suspicions. You're a talented kid, with more courage than some of my most decorated soldiers. You'll go far in this field, Harry."

Sergeant Richmond held out his hand and Harry quickly shook it. With a curt nod, the Sergeant turned and strode out of the room. Harry waited until the clomp of his boots faded, before exiting himself. Outside, he found Cliff and Alana waiting for him.

"Everything okay, Potts?" Cliff called.

"Yeah, we're good," Harry replied, dismissively waving his hand toward the building. "He just wanted check in on how I'm adjusting to America. I think I need a drink," he sighed, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes.

"I've got some beer back in the dorm. Should I bring a few over and we'll have an end of the first week toast?" Cliff offered.

"Sounds brilliant," Harry said, gratefully. "Alana, you in?"

"How about I go grab a pizza or two and meet you back at your place?" she suggested.

"Pizza and beer, a girl after my own heart," Cliff laughed, kissing the top of Alana's head and making her blush.

That evening, Harry experienced his first standard American Friday night. Along with the beer, Cliff brought along a few albums from the band, The Cure. Harry quickly took to the music and made note of the albums so he could send one or two to Ginny. Alana arrive with four pizzas, and Naomi and Emma.

Never having had pizza before, Harry overindulged in half of the one topped with mushrooms and sausage. As for the American beer, he was only able to handle one before declaring that it was, in fact, NOT beer, but rather a watered down imposter.

Naomi wondered around the room, inspecting all of Harry's pictures. "You're girlfriend is adorable," she cooed, looking over the pictures next to Harry's bed. "Is this her pillow and blanket?" Naomi asked, motioning to the the pink pillow and flower quilt.

"Yeah," Harry acknowledged, flushing. "Was hoping it would help me sleep better in an empty bed."

"Aww, that's so sweet!" Alana gushed. "Does it work?"

"Not really, unfortunately. I suffer from nightmares and they've started up again since coming here," Harry frowned.

"I can help with that," Cliff piped up.

"Doubtful, but at this point I will try just about anything to get a good night's sleep," Harry conceded. "I don't think I can keep fending off Sophie when I'm only half conscious."

"Tomorrow night, before bed, come running on the beach with me," Cliff advised. "I promise, it will burn off your energy and clear your mind. After a mile or two, you'll sleep like a baby."

Harry wasn't sure how keen he was on that idea. He wasn't much of a runner. His position as seeker had been more about patience and speed on a broomstick. He had never had to focus on his physical ability, as much as the others team members had. But, as he had said, he was willing to try anything for a full night of rest.

The following night he donned a pair of old sweatpants and a t-shirt, and met Cliff on the beach. Cliff had on a pair of mesh athletic shorts and a sleeveless shirt.

"I usually run a mile north, towards Santa Monica, and then a mile back. You up for it Potts?" Cliff challenged, stretching his legs.

"Let's give it a shot," Harry yielded. "If I die, don't send me home in these sweatpants."

"You got it. Let's roll out!" Cliff waved Harry on as he started off, at a jogging pace.

Harry surprised himself by keeping up for the first half mile. Gradually Cliff increased his speed and by the one mile mark, Harry was doubled over with a stitch in his side. Cliff slowed to a stop and jogged in place while Harry gulped the salty air, trying to catch his breath.

"Just let me know when you're ready to trek back," Cliff puffed.

Harry was bent over, hands on his knees. He was finally able to slow his breathing and suppress the urge to vomit. Slowly, he eased himself back up and pointed south, stumbling the first few steps across the sand. Cliff followed Harry's signal and set off at a leisurely pace, allowing Harry to work back up to a run.

When the pair finally returned to the Venice sands, Harry dropped to the ground and let a few cold waves crash over his exhausted body.

"Alright Potts! That was excellent!" Cliff exclaimed. Harry shot him a wary stare and Cliff chuckled. "For your first time, you kept up well. It gets easier, I promise.

Harry staggered to his feet and willed himself to put one foot in front of the other, as they walked back to the dormitory. When they approached the stairs, Harry almost cried.

"I think I'll sleep in the laundry room tonight," Harry groaned.

"Onward and upward!" Cliff whooped, nudging Harry's back.

Every muscle in his body screamed no, but Harry persevered up one flight of stairs, and then the next. By the time his soggy feet landed on the fifth floor, his urge to vomit had come roaring back with a vengeance. He could barely pull his key from his pocket and hold it steady.

"Same time tomorrow night?" Cliff offered.

"If I make it through the night," Harry grunted.

Once in the door, Harry stripped off his soaked clothing and hurled them into the bathroom. He all but crawled across the floor, as he made his way to the bed. He fell asleep, cursing Cliff's "brilliant" idea. But, Merlin be damned, he slept the entire night, without one nightmare tormenting his mind.


	12. Chapter 12

Harry,

I can't believe Sophie hasn't gotten the hint to back off. It's been over month now! In the words of my darling brother, how thick can you get? I know you're too much of a gentlemen to, but if she can't keep her hands to herself I'll come over there and jinx her myself! George taught me a few new good ones when we were in Hogsmead last weekend.

Thank you so much for The Cure CD. I'm already in love with it and anxiously awaiting Cliff's next recommendation. I've found that the CD player is a great way to tune out Hermione. You know I love the girl to pieces, but she's non-stop agonizing over N.E.W.T.S. already! I know that shouldn't surprise me, but some nights, especially after Quidditch practice, all I want to do is sit by the fire and turn my brain off. NOT rehash every word of Slughorn's latest class. Speaking of which, he has reinstated the Slug Club and Ron has been invited to fill in your spot. Now the git has this annoying, big headed strut that he does. Luckily Hermione is around to knock him down a peg, or two, when he needs it.

Quidditch has been going well. I think the new team is coming together nicely. When Dennis Creevey is paying attention, he's a great Seeker. The problem is, he tends to get wrapped up in watching the other action on the pitch, instead of watching out for the snitch. Demelza has become my soul sister though. I swear the girl can read my mind! With a few more decent practices, we might stand a chance in our first match. McGonagall finally set the match dates a few days ago. Our first one will be November 21st, against Slytherin. It'll be here so quick!

I'm supposed to add in here that Hermione enjoyed your last letter and that she will write to you as soon as she has a spare moment. Not sure when I became her secretary…. anyway, expect a letter sometime around June. You've piqued Ron's interest in Broomstick Volleyball, but he's given up trying to understand baseball. He says you're better off sticking with Quidditch. I'm sure he's told you all about it, though. He thinks he's being sneaky, but I catch him writing you letters when Hermione thinks he's doing school work. He's getting along okay with Seamus and Neville, but I can tell he's really missing you. He's not the only one of course. It's awfully lonely in front of the fire, at night. Each day brings us closer to Christmas break!

I'm going to go humor Hermione and crack open my Transfiguration book for an hour. Or at least until she gets that smug, satisfied smile. Enjoy the Halloween party and remember to send lots of photos! I'm excited to see what costume you've settled on. I personally think you would look exceptionally good as a pirate. An added bonus, you'd have a sword to chop off Sophie's fingers, should she decide to get extra touchy feely. Not that I condone violence of any kind…

Miss you loads, but love you more!

Love Always,

Ginny

Since his first letter, Ginny had taken Sophie's unwanted attention in stride. Harry was continuously honest with her, filling her in on Sophie's latest crazy scheme to catch him off guard or get him alone. It was calming to know he had her trust, and made Sophie's advances easier to handle.

In the last month, Harry had come to suspect that Sophie wasn't really infatuated with him. He had the feeling that she saw Harry now more as a challenge that she needed to conquer. It wasn't as if she didn't garner any other male attention. Even the upperclassmen sat up and took notice when she went by. Grant practically groveled at her feet any chance he got. No, it seemed as though Harry showing no interest in her, beyond the classroom, only spurred Sophie on more.

His new friends rallied to his side without hesitation. Whenever possible, they would save Harry seats that kept him away from groping hands and were always ready with an excuse for why he couldn't attend whatever activity Sophie suggested, as it appeared that having a steady girlfriend was not reason enough. Emma had taken to calling Sophie "The Cougar"- always on the prowl and ready to pounce when she sensed weakness.

Aside from his stalker problem, Harry quickly came to love Los Angeles. He didn't quite take to all the American trends and traditions, but he was having fun experiencing it all. Cliff kept his word and introduced Harry to Dodger's baseball. They got to attend several games together before the season ended. It wasn't the most exciting game on earth; he put it a step or two above Cricket. But Harry enjoyed going to the stadium and being in the thick of a pumped up crowd, cheering on their home team.

Harry was also getting to experience some amazing new foods. Growing up with the Dursley's, Harry got used to being satisfied with bland scraps and leftovers. They never took him out to restaurants, and sweets were certainly a rarity. While the food at Hogwarts was a hundred times better, it still wasn't the most diverse cuisine. It was a good thing Cliff had introduced Harry to running, because he had also introduced him to pizza, Chinese takeaway, burritos and tacos, spicy Indian curries, and an amazing Thai restaurant. If he wasn't running up and down the beach every night, Harry was pretty sure he'd be about four stone heavier within that first month.

They were heading into the end of October. The first semester was halfway gone and the academy's traditional Halloween Bash was a few days away. When Harry had first heard about the party, he wasn't too keen on going. Besides not wanting to give Sophie another seduction opportunity, he never really saw the appeal of Halloween. It had been nice at Hogwarts, when they had the Halloween feast. But being the anniversary of his parents' death, Harry always felt detached from the day and it didn't feel right to celebrate it.

In America, though, Halloween was a bit of a big deal. It had come to be seen as a children's holiday, with brightly colored costumes and trick or treating around the neighborhoods. For the adults, it seemed to be an excuse to don a costume and let their inner child out for the evening. After a bit of peer pressure from Cliff and Emma, Harry had agreed to find himself a costume and attend the bash.

And that is how he found himself in a Venice thrift shop, with Cliff, looking through racks of clothes that had gone out of style several decades ago. Harry decided to go with Ginny's suggestion of a pirate costume, figuring it should be a pretty simple outfit to put together. He had already found a red shirt, with puffy sleeves, and a few chunky gold chains in a bucket of costume jewelry.

"Ahhh, here you are Harry!" Cliff cried, wrenching a garment from the rack. He victoriously held up a pair of black, leather trousers. "The perfect pair of pirate pants!"

Harry stared at him for a beat, waiting for a punchline.

"Oh God, you're serious," Harry muttered. He eyed up the pants with a bit of fear. They looked as though they could bind him up tighter than a dose of U-No-Poo.

"They're classic! Go try them on!" Cliff urged, throwing the pants at Harry.

Harry caught them with a groan of defeat. He trudged to the dressing room and gave them a try. They weren't the most uncomfortable pants, and they did pull off the look of a pirate. He could handle them for one night.

"Good find, Cliff," Harry called, exiting the dressing stall. Cliff gave him a thumbs up and continued browsing the racks for the perfect "Rock God" ensemble, as he had put it.

Breaking away from the clothes, Harry wandered over to the music section. He started browsing through the covers, not really knowing what he was looking for. He had started relying on Cliff to be his musical guide. Cliff had a pretty eclectic taste in music, and they had started a weekend tradition of spending Saturday afternoons, tracking down second hand record stores for hidden gems.

"Anything decent in here, Potts?" Cliff asked, peering over Harry's shoulder. Harry stepped to the side and Cliff started thumbing through the albums. "Oh, here we go! These two are musts for any collection," Cliff declared, handing Harry a pair of records. One was David Bowie's, Aladdin Sane, and the other was The Talking Heads, Little Creatures. "Excellent tunes right there."

Cliff moved onto the CD collection and started quickly rifling through. Every now and then Harry would hear him muttering names of a band and barking out a sarcastic laugh.

"Nobody wants a Milli Vanilli album anymore," Cliff scoffed, flicking the offensive album to a discard pile. "I do think Ginny would like this, though" Cliff said, handing Harry an album titled Journey's Greatest Hits. "If Don't Stop Believin' doesn't put a smile on her face, I don't know what will."

"I should hope I would," Harry joked, feigning offense.

"You're awesome, but you're no Steve Perry."

Harry wasn't sure how to reply to that, and Cliff went back to his search.

"Oh, and this one!" Cliff shoved another CD into Harry's hands, Blondie's Parallel Lines. "Amazing woman lead singer. Not too bad on the eyes either."

"Thanks, mate," Harry said, stacking the CDs together, as he attempted to juggle the rest of his stuff. "She was just telling me that she couldn't wait for your next musical installment. Pretty sure you've won her over, without even having met her."

"She coming to visit sometime? She sounds like a lot of fun."

"I'm hoping I can get her over for part of Christmas break. I know she wants to meet everyone." Harry laughed and added, "Well, almost everybody. No surprise, but she wants to hex Sophie."

"Tell her to get in line," Cliff muttered.

"So, is your 'Rock God' outfit complete?"

"Oh, yeah! Check it!" Cliff's face lit up and he started holding out his clothes. "I'm going to rip some holes into these sweet red, acid washed jeans. And then tear the sleeves off this plain white tee. If I can find some aviators, like Serg's, and a red bandana, I think I'll have an amazing Axl Rose look going for myself!"

"Who?" Harry asked, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"You don't know….I know what we're looking for on our next record excursion." Cliff shook his head and went to the register.

On their way back to campus, they stopped by and got Chinese takeout from what had become Harry's favorite restaurant. It wasn't much to look at, just a little hole in the wall type of place. Harry was leary of it the first time Cliff had brought him to it, but the food that came out of it was delicious. It wasn't long before they were loaded up with cartons of fried rice, beef and broccoli, shrimp lo mein, and egg rolls.

Back at the dormitory, Cliff ducked into his room to stash his bags from the thrift store. Harry unlocked his door and found a sheet of paper had been slipped under it. He put the food on the kitchen table and bent down for the paper. It was a notice to students that the campus would be shutting down for a week, starting at the end of classes, on November twentieth, for a holiday called Thanksgiving.

"Hey, what's Thanksgiving?" Harry asked, as Cliff walked in and started pulling food cartons from the bag.

"You guys don't celebrate Thanksgiving?" Cliff replied, opening up a container of duck sauce. Harry shook his head. "Oh, yeah, I guess you wouldn't. It essentially celebrates the Pilgrims leaving your homeland and making a life for themselves in the New World. It's celebrated on the last Thursday of November, every year. Technically it's a day to give thanks for all the wonderful things in your life. Most people use it as an excuse to stuff themselves full of turkey, and then fall asleep while they watch American football."

"And for that we get an entire week of no classes?" Harry said, in disbelief, holding up his notice.

"Yep. Pretty sweet deal." Cliff drowned a egg roll in duck sauce and shoved the entire thing in his mouth. "You need a place to go?" he asked through puffed cheeks. He swallowed and continued, "My mom and Aunt Mary always put together an amazing feast! Turkey, stuffing, potatoes cooked five different ways, homemade cranberry sauce. Aunt Mary makes these tasty garlic rolls that melt in your mouth! I know they would be happy to have one more at the table."

"That does sound incredible," Harry confessed. But his head was whirling with a different idea. "Can I put that down as my plan B? I have an idea of what I could do, but I need to send an owl or two first."

"The door is always open, Potts."

Classes were starting to get intense as final exams drew closer. The first month, Harry had gotten along well with the course work. Much of it was review of things he already knew. Now, though, at the close of the second month, the material was getting more advanced.

Charms was proving to be Harry's most challenging class. He wasn't sure if he just wasn't grasping the concepts, or if he was so nervous around Sophie that his magic was suffering from it. Currently, they were working on the Bewitched Sleep charm and Harry was hating his forced partnership. The last thing he wanted was for her to put him under a deep sleep.

"Ready, Harry?" Sophie asked, raising her wand.

Harry said nothing. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The last thing he remembered was the coo of Sophie's voice, reciting, "Somnum Profundus!"

When Harry came to, it was obvious that several minutes had passed, and Sophie had a satisfied smirk on her face.

"Hey Harry," Cliff called. "Can you come help me with something quick?"

Harry cast a wary look at Sophie before moving over to his friend's side.

"Tell me if I have this right." Cliff turned his back to Sophie, facing Naomi. Dropping his voice to a whisper, Cliff hissed, "Dude, don't let her cast that spell on you anymore!"

"Oh god, what did she do?" Harry groaned.

"Nothing, yet" Cliff breathed.

"She definitely took her time reviving you though. Docket was helping Grant and Sarah, so Sophie took the chance to get an up close and personal inspection," Naomi informed.

"Right. This is going too far now. If I don't so something, I am going to fail this class. Thanks," Harry said, patting Cliff's shoulder.

Without looking back at his partner, Harry made his way to the front of the room. Delilah was shuffling through papers at her desk.

"Excuse me, Miss Docket. Could I have a moment?" Harry inquired.

"Of course Harry. What can I do for you?" the teacher replied, looking up at Harry and smiling.

"I need to request a change in partners," Harry started. "I hate to sound childish, but I can't work with Sophie anymore. She's having trouble respecting personal boundaries and I'm not comfortable working with her anymore."

"Harry, do you know why I assign partners in my class, instead of allowing students to choose who they are 'comfortable' with?"

Harry chewed the side of his cheek, anticipating the answer he knew was coming.

"As an Auror, you will be faced with many uncomfortable situations, and you aren't always going to agree with every team member. But when you're out on a case, you won't be able to to just stop and request a change. You make the best of what you have and soldier on." Delilah patted Harry's arm and continued, "You're a bright young man, Harry. And I'm sure Miss Miller is a reasonable young woman. It's a matter of finding a balance in communication. If you can't find that, I'm afraid you're in for quite a shock once you're in the real world."

Harry bit his lip and nodded, before returning to his desk. Before Sophie could say anything, Delilah assigned their homework and dismissed the class. Harry snatched his bag and stalked out of the room. He understood Delilah's reasoning, but it didn't mean he was happy about having to sit around and get taken advantage of.

"Harry, wait!" Sophie called. He could hear her running to catch up. "Wait, Harry!"

Harry abruptly stopped and wheeled around to glare at her. Sophie came to a stop, several feet in front of him.

"Look, Sophie. I don't know what you want from me and, frankly, I don't care." Harry worked to keep his voice even and suppress the rage that was building. "Whatever game of cat and mouse you've decided to play with me stops now. I want no part in it. I don't want to go anywhere with you. I don't want to do anything with you. Honestly, I don't want to talk to you unless it's about classwork, in the classroom." Harry took a deep breath and continued, "I already have a girlfriend and nothing you say, or do, would make me jeopardize our relationship. Have I made myself clear?"

"Crystal," Sophie replied, her face passive and impossible to read.

Harry narrowed his eyes for a moment, trying to figure out if she had truly heard what he had just said. Sophie continued to stare at him, unblinking, waiting for his next move. Without another word, Harry turned away and walked out of the building.

After that, things went much more smoothly. It seemed as though Harry had gotten his point across. Sophie kept her distance and didn't say a word to him unless she had to during classes. Harry was finally fully at ease, not having to be on high alert at every moment during the day.

He even managed to have fun at the Halloween bash. Naomi turned out to be quite the crafty witch and helped fashion a belt, headband, and eyepatch to complete Harry's costume.

Cliff was able to procure the sunglasses and bandana he wanted, along with a fake guitar. After draining Emma's entire can of hairspray, Cliff's blonde hair added about half a foot to his height ,and Harry finally got a glimpse at what a "Rock God" looked like.

The cafe had been cleared of most of the tables and chairs, and every corner was now decorated. Black and orange gauzy fabric was draped to give the lights an eerie glow. Fake bats had been enchanted to fly around the room, swooping and diving around the students. Great metal tubs were filled with ice water for apple bobbing, and charmed trays floated along, offering small cauldrons of smoking cider. Sneering jack-o-lanterns adorned the tables that lined the walls.

A grand buffet table creaked under the weight of numerous sweets, chicken wings, fruit and veggie platters, two punch bowls, chips, and pretzels. In the center, a four tiered cake towered over it all, elaborately decorated with a haunting graveyard scene, complete with small ghosts popping out from behind the chocolate gravestones.

"She's not very subtle, is she?" Emma scoffed. Harry and Cliff turned from the punch bowl and followed her gaze to Sophie walking through the door, with a simpering Grant by her side.

"Slutty nurse? Really?" Cliff exclaimed. "That costume is so worn out. If you're going to go slutty, get creative."

"And what exactly would you slut up?" Emma asked, shooting Cliff a disgusted look.

"I don't know, maybe a Gremlin?"

"Gizmo deserves better," Emma scolded.

Harry laughed, even though he didn't quite understand what gizmo Emma was talking about. It had become obvious that Emma had a crush on Cliff, but didn't want to admit it. She had taken to sitting next to him in every class, even if it meant not being in the front row, and gave him longing looks when he wasn't looking. That evening, she was complimenting Cliff's costume with a her own rock star look. She had colored her hair midnight black and was dressed in a tight black outfit, complete with leather jacket and studded leather bracelets. She said she was channeling her inner Joan Jett.

Sophie kept her distance for the entire party and Harry enjoyed the evening with his friends. Alana, in her cat costume, tried to teach him how to do various dances. She insisted that he caught on fine, but Harry was pretty sure he looked like a drunk giraffe.

There was a table set up to carve pumpkins and Naomi tried to convince him that it was a fun tradition, but Harry wasn't buying it. He watched as she threw off her Pink Ladies jacket and started scooping the orange guts and seeds out with her hands.

"Why would you do that when you can just summon it all out?" Harry asked. He waved his wand and all of his pumpkin innards flew up and dropped gently onto the newspaper, next to it.

"Getting your hands messy is half the fun!" Naomi exclaimed, a hint of exasperation in her voice. She flicked her hand at him and a glob of goop landed on his forehead.

"Hard pass on that one, Mimi." Harry picked up a carving knife and started cutting out a crooked smile.

"You have a place to go for Thanksgiving?" Naomi asked, scooping out another fistful of guts.

"Yeah, I've been working on making arrangements," Harry answered, tossing aside a pumpkin chunk.

"Well, if things fall through, you're welcome to come back to Texas with me. My family pulls out all the stops for Thanksgiving dinner."

"I've noticed that that seems to be the theme of the holiday," Harry laughed. "If you guys go through all of this for Thanksgiving, what is Christmas like?"

"About the same. For us at least. Lots of food and family." Naomi held her pumpkin upside down and tapped out the last few stray seeds. "Now, we dig through the guts and pick out the seeds to roast."

Harry eyed the pile orange goo and grimaced. "You have fun with that. I don't need roasted pumpkin seeds that bad."

"Spoilsport."

At the end of the evening, Harry's camera had been passed around and refilled with film several times. He was left with sorting through stacks with the girls, happily letting them choose some to take. Harry was excited to get back and send some off to Ginny.

"Running tonight, Potts?" Cliff called, as Harry unlocked his door.

"Yeah, give me like a half hour? I want to send a quick owl to Ginny, with the pictures."

"It's a date," Cliff replied, disappearing into his own room.

Harry changed out of his costume and into a pair of mesh shorts and a muscle shirt. When he made his way over to his desk, he found Athena perched on top of her cage and a roll of parchment on the desk. Breaking the ministry seal, Harry quickly read through and smiled. The last piece of his upcoming holiday was falling into place.

With the promise of the holiday on the horizon, and Sophie keeping her hands to herself, Harry's November went amazingly smooth. He was able to relax in Charms class and it showed through in his spells. Cliff kept him running and sleeping soundly. Harry's strength and stamina had started to build, and he was able to keep up with Cliff and not feel like his chest was going to explode.

And through it all, Harry's past was never brought up. Sergeant Richmond tended to call on him more than others in Defense class, but never let slip why. Sometimes Harry felt guilty for not being upfront with his new friends. He was pretty sure that, like his friends back home, they wouldn't give him any special treatment. But part of him feared them looking at him differently. So, for the moment, he kept his past in the past, and enjoyed getting to be 'just Harry'.

The Friday before Thanksgiving arrived, and everyone was sharing their Thanksgiving traditions over lunch. Naomi was just in the middle of telling a story about her No-Maj grandfather setting his garage on fire, trying to deep fry a turkey, when Sophie appeared at their table, tray in hand and an apprehensive look on her face.

"I was wondering if, maybe, I could sit with you guys?" Sophie ventured. She looked around the table, avoiding Harry's wary gaze. "Grant left early for the holiday."

Nobody was quick to answer and Sophie nodded, turning away. Harry heard a sigh beside him and Alana caved.

"You're welcome to join us Sophie," Alana said, motioning to a chair at the end of the table, next to Naomi. Naomi shot Alana a death glare as Sophie sat down. "We were just sharing Thanksgiving stories with Harry, since they don't celebrate it in England."

"What time do you leave tonight, Harry?" Emma asked.

"First portkey leaves at four. I need to stop at the chemist and pick up a few bottles of that motion sickness potion." Harry felt queasy just thinking about twisting portkeys.

"Would you guys like to get together, after the break?" Sophie suddenly suggested. "There are a few new movies coming out at the beginning of the month. Maybe we could make a Friday night out of it?"

"Sounds like it could be fun," Alana slowly replied.

"You're too nice," Harry whispered.

"I know, people tell me that all the time," Alana murmured. "But, it looks like she's attempting to be nice and civil, so maybe giving her a second chance isn't the worst thing in the world?"

"I guess," Harry conceded. "As long as I don't have to be alone with her."

Alana gave him a reassuring smile. "We've got your back."

Once Sergeant Richmond unlocked the door at three o'clock, Harry raced back to his room to grab his duffle bag. After a few hurried goodbyes in the hallway, Harry apparated to the wizarding area of the Los Angeles International Airport, and received his portkey schedule.

An hour later, Harry was stepping out of a fireplace to Molly Weasley's cries of "Harry! What on earth are you doing here at this time of night?!"

Before Harry could answer, he dashed out the back door and threw up in the garden.


	13. Chapter 13

Harry stood outside the gates and gazed up at the castle. The sky was bright blue, with only a few cotton clouds dotting the sky. A light breeze rustled across the grounds, ruffling the fringe on Harry's scarlet and gold scarf, and carrying the sounds of excited voices making their way to the Quidditch pitch. Harry pulled his jacket tight and his Dodgers cap low, before slowly stepping through the gate. As McGonagall had promised, he was able to step through the barrier with ease.

Harry took his time walking up to Hogwarts. He wanted to allow all the students to file into the stands before he entered. Only a select few knew he was back for the week, and he didn't want his sudden appearance to take away from Ginny's first match. Plus, he didn't want her to know he was in the stands and make her nervous or cause a distraction.

After receiving the dates of Thanksgiving break, Harry had immediately sent out owls to Kingsley and Arthur, in attempt to set up travel back to England. Kingsley had been more than happy to schedule Harry a series of portkeys back across the country. And Arthur happily left his floo open for the evening so that Harry would have no problem getting back to The Burrow. He had purposefully left Molly out of the loop, so that he could surprise her. He was pretty sure he had accomplished that, though vomiting into her rose bushes was not the surprise Harry had been going for.

When the last Gryffindor scarf trailed into the stands, Harry jogged down to the pitch. It felt odd to be going to the pitch as a spectator. He'd only sat in the stands once or twice, cheering Gryffindor on from the sidelines. From his very first year he had either been streaking after the snitch, or else stuck in the castle. Chuckling softly at the memories, he climbed to the Gryffindor box. He immediately spotted Ron's red hair, in the front row. Beside him Hermione sat, bundled up, with her head in a book.

Harry walked over and bent down to an unsuspecting Hermione. "A Quidditch match is no place for schoolwork," Harry commented.

Hermione's head whipped up, eyes wide and mouth agape.

"What are you doing here!?" she squealed, jumping up and hugging Harry tight.

"What are _you_ doing, hugging strange men?" Ron cried. Harry lifted his cap and winked at Ron. "What ARE you doing here?" Ron hissed.

"Couldn't miss the first match of the season, could I?" Harry answered. He pulled his hat back down and went to sit beside Ron.

"That's a lot of traveling for just one weekend," Hermione admonished.

"I know, that's why I'm here for a week," Harry said, casually waiting for Hermione to take his bait.

"A week! Do you really think it wise to miss an entire week of classes, during your first semester?"

Harry laughed. "Calm down, Hermione. There are no classes this week. American schools take the week off for a holiday called Thanksgiving," Harry reassured. "When I saw that the vacation coincided with Gryffindor's first match, I started setting a plan in motion to get here for it."

"I take it Gin doesn't know you're here?" Ron questioned.

"No, I want to surprise her after the game. How's the team looking?"

Hermione went back to reading and Ron started filling Harry in on what he had been seeing at practices. Ron had gone along to a few practices, helping to train the new keeper. He said that Ginny was continuously second guessing things off the pitch, but you'd never know it when she on the broom and coaching the others. She was confident and compassionate with her team, and it all reflected in her superb chasing skills.

"Wait til' you see her fly, Harry," Ron declared. "She's like a bullet on a broomstick."

"Welcome ladies and gentlemen, to Hogwart's first quidditch match of the season!" a familiar voice reverberated through the stands.

"Is that Lee?" Harry wondered, looking to the announcer booth. Sure enough, Lee Jordan and George Weasley sat together, huddled over megaphones.

"Since they opened up the shop in Hogsmeade, Professor McGonagall invited Lee to do the commentary," Ron explained. "Apparently, she told Lee that the matches just didn't have the same excitement without him in the booth. Lee agreed, as long as George could provide co-commentary. McGonagall reluctantly agreed to a trial period. Rumor has it, they made an unbreakable vow to keep their language clean."

"You started that rumor," Hermione huffed.

"Our match today is Gryffindor versus Slytherin," Lee announced. "And I do believe we are in for an exciting game! Both teams are carrying fresh faces this year. Heading up the Slytherin team is their Seeker, Jennifer Watkins. From what I heard, if old Voldy hadn't interrupted the season, she was well on the way to securing the cup last year."

Seven players, cloaked in green and silver, marched onto the field and lined up at the center line.

"I'm pleased to announce the arrival of Gryffindor's team, captained by the last Weasley of our generation, Ginny Weasley!" George heralded. "I've been here to see some of their practices, Lee, and I tell ya, she's put together a sharp team."

Ginny led the team onto the pitch to stand in front of the Slytherins. Madame Hooch stood in the middle and instructed the captains to shake hands. Ginny and Jennifer shook quickly and Madame hooch blew her whistle, signaling the teams to mount their brooms.

"On my whistle, you may begin play," Madame Hooch called. A shrill whistle filled the field and the players took off. The bludgers were let loose and Madame Hooch tossed the quaffle in the air, before sending out the tiny, golden snitch.

Harry saw the snitch for a nanosecond before it was lost in the bright sunlight. In that time, Ginny had seized the quaffle, and passed it to the other veteran chaser, Demelza Robins. Together, Ginny and Demelza shot up the pitch, weaving in and out of Slytherins and ducking bludgers. With a final pass from Demelza, Ginny sent the quaffle soaring through the middle hoop, before the Slytherin keeper even registered her arrival.

The Gryffindor stands roared and Lee gleefully announced, "I think that's the fastest I've ever seen a player score! Ten points to Gryffindor! What was that George, five seconds?"

"I think the only thing I've seen quicker is Filch confiscating our goods," George laughed. "The Slytherins are fighting back, though. Chaser Frank Hodgkins has the quaffle now. That was a well aimed bludger from Sanchire, but artfully dodged and Hodgins passes to Leo Snow. Snow is hurtling to the hoops….oh! Right through the keeper's hands! Ten to Slytherin!"

And that's the way it went for an hour. As soon as one team pulled ahead by a few goals, the other would rally right back. Gryffindor's Seeker, Dennis Creevey, was soaring high above the pitch and kept spectacularly diving every few minutes, only to pull up empty handed a second later. There hadn't been a snitch sighting since it's release.

"Creevey and Watkins are like cats out there," George remarked, as Watkins halted mid-dive and reversed. "Pouncing on anything shiny that catches their eye."

"I'm starting to think someone's throwing knuts onto the field, trying to fake them out," Lee retorted.

"Someone should have tinted Dennis' goggles," Harry muttered, following Ginny's red mane, bolting through two Slytherins and effortlessly passing the Quaffle to Demelza. In their intricate dance, Demelza rolled out of the path of a screaming bludger, and then tossed the quaffle over her head, back to Ginny. Ginny scooped it from the air, feinted right, but launched the quaffle, like a rocket, through the left hoop.

"And that's three hundred and ninety to Gryffindor," Lee announced. "They're back to within ten points of Slytherin!"

Harry was amazed at how Ginny's skill had improved since he flew with her last. The way she raced across the pitch, he could see her planning out and executing her next two or three moves, all within mere seconds. She zigzagged past bludgers like they were house flies, and the opposing team may as well have been invisible.

A flash of green from the staff booth caught Harry's eye. Squinting, Harry saw two witches, in dark green robes, talking to Professor McGonagall. He didn't recognize them and elbowed Ron.

"Who are the two women talking with McGonagall?" Harry asked, pointing across the field. "Are they new professors this year?"

Ron followed Harry's gesture and shook his head. "Seamus, give me your binoculars for a second," Ron said, turning around and holding out his hand.

"I told you the other day to buy your own in Hogsmeade," Seamus griped, handing his binoculars to Ron.

Ron took another look at the staff booth. "Blimey, they're from the Holyhead Harpies!" He handed the binoculars back to Seamus and turned to Harry, saying, "Bet they're scouting for next season."

"Think they're here to see Ginny play?" Harry wondered, as Ginny scored another goal, putting Gryffindor back in the lead.

"Well, if she wasn't on their radar before, she sure is now," Ron declared.

Just as Slytherin drew level again on points, Dennis Creevey tore across the field, towards the Slytherin goal posts.

"I think young Creevey sees something!" George cried.

"He's certainly got something on his radar. Probably Douglas' watch," Lee chided.

"No, I don't think it's….yes! Creevey's got it! He's caught the snitch! Gryffindor wins, five hundred and sixty to four hundred and ten!" George whooped.

The Gryffindor stands erupted in celebration; stomping, clapping and screaming as their weary, yet ecstatic team returned their feet to the ground and piled on top of tiny Dennis.

"Yeah, Weasley!" Harry called, waving his hat as he leaned over the edge of the stands.

His yell caught Ginny's attention and she looked up. When her eyes landed on Harry, they widened and a large grin spread from ear to ear.

At that exact moment, Boris Crass, a Slytherin beater, whacked a passing bludger in frustration. He wasn't aiming it at anything, but ended up sending it on a collision course with the back of Ginny's head. Despite still having her head gear on, Ginny crumpled to the pitch, like a rag doll.

Madame Hooch went screaming after Crass, while the Gryffindor team converged on Ginny. Before Ron or Hermione could protest, Harry jumped over the wall, cast a cushioning charm on himself, and, upon landing, raced across the grass.

"Don't move her!" Harry shouted, as one of the beaters attempted to pick up Ginny. He knelt down at her side and vanished her head gear. Relieved to see the steady rise and fall of her chest, he gently lifted her eyelids. Her pupils appeared normal. She was just knocked out cold.

"Make room please!" Professor McGonagall instructed, as she made her way through the growing crowd. "Mr. Potter, it's nice to see Auror training is paying off for you," she commented, conjuring a stretcher under Ginny. A flick of her wand and the stretcher started floating towards the school. "How does she look?"

"Pretty sure it's just a mild concussion," Harry answered, holding Ginny's hand as he walked beside her. "I don't envy the headache she'll have when she wakes."

"Harry, wait up you prat!"

Harry glanced back and saw Ron and George running after him, with Hermione puffing along behind them. McGonagall clucked her tongue at Ron.

"Sorry, Professor," Ron wheezed. "Is Ginny alright?"

"I'm sure it's nothing more than a mild concussion," McGonagall assured. "Madame Pomfrey will check her over just to be sure."

They followed along up to the hospital wing, but were prohibited from going in while Madame Pomfrey examined Ginny. They conjured chairs and waited outside the doors for thirty minutes before McGonagall returned with the Healer.

"Ginny will be just fine," Madam Pomfrey reassured. "She does indeed have a mild concussion, and just needs rest. I've given her a sleeping potion, so I don't expect her to wake for another hour or so."

"You lot should go get some lunch," McGonagall advised. "There should still be food down in the Great Hall."

"Professor, would it be okay if Hermione and Ron went into Hogsmeade, with me and George?" Harry queried. "I promise I'll return them safe and sound to the castle."

"Of course, Mr. Potter. I believe I can trust you not to go apparating off." McGonagall laughed. She pulled a slip of parchment from her robes, and tapped it with her wand. She handed it to Hermione. "In case Argus gives you any grief, just show him this."

They thanked her and set off for the front entrance. After making it out the door, without encountering Filch, they hurried down to the front gate and down the path to the village of Hogsmeade.

They stopped at the Three Broomsticks for lunch and Harry enjoyed a large mug of Madame Rosmerta's Mulled Mead, that he had been pining for. He sat down and took a long sip, before sighing, "Oh, I needed this. A proper drink is hard to come by in America."

"Harry, that jump from the stands was incredible!" Ron commended, after they had placed their orders. "How did you learn that?"

"Part of our Defense class," Harry explained. "We practiced by jumping off the top of our six floor dormitory building."

"That's insane!" Hermione gasped, eyes wide in horror.

"We eventually graduated down to a one story grocery store. The only way we could pass that section was by being able to jump and cast the cushioning charm within three seconds."

The four sat in the pub for forty-five minutes, while they ate lunch and caught up. Before heading back to the castle, they stopped and picked up a few treats for Ginny at Honeyduke's.

"I have to get back to the shop," George said, handing Harry his bag of sweets. "Tell Gin that I hope she feels better and I'll be round to see her tomorrow."

They waved good-bye to George and started back to the castle, with Harry nipping into the florist to get Ginny a bouquet of daisies.

"Are you still having nightmares?" Hermione asked as they passed through the gate.

"Not since Cliff got me out running with him, in the evenings." Harry answered.

"You go running now?" Hermione said, amused.

"So you don't read all of my letters to Ginny?"

"No, she doesn't share all of them," Hermione laughed. "Though I must say, I never knew you had such a romantic side."

"Yeah, way to set the bar so high," Ron griped.

"It wouldn't hurt for you to say sweet stuff every now and then, Ron," Hermione muttered.

"I say sweet stuff all the time!"

"Hey!" Harry interrupted. "I've gotten pretty good at nonverbal spells and could hex you both quicker than you could blink," Harry threatened, with a laugh.

Hermione and Ron huffed, but quit arguing.

"So, running," Hermione continued.

"Yeah, Cliff started dragging me out to the beach for a run every night," Harry said, opening the enormous wooden door with his wand. "It was brutal at first, and I literally thought I was going to die that first week, but it really helps clear my head and lets me sleep."

Harry started to climb the staircase, but Hermione hung back. She grabbed Ron's robes and pulled him to her side.

"You go on up, Harry," Hermione urged, handing him her Honeydukes bag. Ron started to object, but she held up her hand. "We'll give you two some privacy and come visit later."

"Thank you," Harry said, appreciatively. He started up the stairs, leaving behind Ron's complaints of, "But she's MY sister."

He climbed the floors to the hospital wing, remembering the vanishing step just in time to leap over it. Ginny was still asleep, but he was allowed to wait outside of the curtain that closed off her bed.

Harry leaned back and thought of all the times he had ended up in this wing. As he was trying to decide which stay had been worse (regrowing the bones in his arm, courtesy of Gilderoy Lockhart, or waking up after the dementor attack and finding out his beloved Nimbus had been pulverized by the Whomping Willow), he heard a stirring behind the curtain.

"Where am I?" Ginny moaned.

"Good afternoon, Miss Weasley," Madame Pomfrey chirped, bustling through the curtains. "You had a minor collision with a bludger, this morning."

"I was having the nicest dream though," Ginny sighed. "I dreamed that we won the game and Harry was there, cheering me on."

Harry tried very hard to stay quiet while Madame Pomfrey conducted her examination. A sudden cry of pain made him want to barge through the thin barrier, but he stayed put.

"Yes, you have quite the goose-egg back there, young lady," the healer tutted. "Keep the ice on it and take this for the pain." Madame Pomfrey came out and gave Harry a stern look. "She needs to rest. Don't get her over excited."

Harry nodded, with a grin, and then finally peeked his head in. Ginny had laid back and covered her eyes with her forearm.

He tiptoed to her bedside and leaned down to whisper, in her ear, "Was it a nice dream then?"

Ginny gasped and pulled her arm away quickly.

"Harry! You're-"

Harry didn't let her finish his sentence. He cupped her cheek and kissed her. Her warm and familiar lips eagerly returned the favor.

"You're really here," Ginny breathed, finally breaking the kiss. She caressed his face and asked,"Why are you here?"

"There was a holiday break in America, so I thought I would drop by and catch the most brilliant match of quidditch I have ever seen!" Harry sat down on the edge of bed and helped Ginny readjust her ice pack. "I can't believe how amazing you were out there! I mean, I've known you were amazing for a while now, but I don't think I've ever seen flying quite like that before."

"How did I end up here though? The game had ended, so why was I smacked with a bludger?"

"That Crass bloke didn't take the loss very well," Harry explained. "He wasn't aiming for anyone. He was frustrated and you happened to turn around, because of yours truly, just as he pelted a bludger towards you." Harry grimaced and continued, "Had I yelled a few seconds later, you would have seen it and been able to duck."

"Oh, shut it," Ginny scolded. "Don't you go apologizing over an ill-tempered git's rage." She reached out her hand and Harry took it. "How long are you here? Please don't tell me I spent all my time with you unconscious."

"You're stuck with me for a whole week."

"How did I get so lucky?"

"When I saw that your match and the Thanksgiving break coincided, I got in touch with Professor McGonagall. She agreed to let me stay here for the week, if I agreed to talk to the Defense classes about my Auror training," Harry explained and kissed her forehead. "So, no, you didn't waste much time unconscious."

"I've missed you," Ginny whispered.

"I've missed you too," Harry smiled, giving her hand a squeeze. "I have one more surprise for you, if you think your battered brain can handle it." Ginny scowled at him. "I've been able to work my magic and got your mum and dad to agree to you spending Christmas with me, in Los Angeles."

"Do you have my parents under the Imperius curse?"

"No, I didn't use ACTUAL magic," Harry chuckled. "I talked to them this morning, before coming here. Your mum took a little more convincing than your dad, but she came around to the idea and gave me permission to have you whisked away to a far away land."

Ginny snickered and asked, "Did she use those exact words?"

"Maybe not those exactly, but you get the idea." Harry kissed her hand. "So, what do you say? This Christmas, our first Christmas, just you and me. No one else around to make plans with. Just us, doing anything we want," he concluded, with a wink.

"I think that sounds almost too good to be true," Ginny sighed. "I don't want to wait a whole month for it!"

"We just made it three months on nothing but letters and pictures. A month will feel like nothing," Harry reassured. "Oh, almost forgot!" Harry reached around the curtain and got the bouquet of flowers and sweets.

"These are beautiful," Ginny gushed, taking the flowers. "Thank you." Harry conjured a vase of water and arranged the flowers.

"Everyone sends their love, and sugar," Harry said, handing her the Honeydukes bag. "Ron and Hermione will be up later today to visit."

Ginny pulled out a box of Bertie Bott's, carefully plucked out a red bean, and offered one to Harry. He settled on a green one, popped it in his mouth, and promptly started gagging. "Ugh, grass clippings!" he gasped.

Ginny laughed and tossed a yellow bean into her mouth. Her face fell as she slowly chewed it.

"I presume that that wasn't lemon custard?"

"Egg," Ginny mumbled, sticking out her tongue.

Harry sat with Ginny all afternoon, eating their way through two boxes of Bertie Bott's. Harry mentioned that he and Ron saw two witches from the Holyhead Harpies at the game, but Ginny insisted that they were most likely there to scout out Slytherin's seeker. When the sun had set, Ron and Hermione arrived with a plate of sandwiches and jugs of pumpkin juice. Despite Hermione bemoaning the amount of work she had, the four friends sat together and talked until Madame Pomfrey declared visiting hours closed.

"I need to go get my run in anyway," Harry said, helping Ginny fluff her pillows and giving her a kiss.

"You're still having nightmares?" Ginny worried.

"Not if I run until I'm exhausted. It's the only other thing I've found that keeps the nightmares at bay. And since I don't foresee Madame Pomfrey letting me enlarge your bed this evening," Harry chanced a glance at the healer and her eyes could have shot daggers. "I'm going to go change and take a jog around the lake." He gave Ginny one last kiss. "I promise I'll be back here first thing tomorrow morning, though."

Hermione and Ron said their goodnights and headed off to the Gryffindor common room, before curfew started. Harry made his way down to the second floor, where McGonagall had set up the guest quarters for him. Harry threw on his running shorts and shirt, then set off for the lake.

After four laps around the water's edge, Harry was drenched in sweat and his muscles were screaming at him. He slowly made his way back to the castle, and was just closing the door when a strange voice reprimanded him.

"It's an hour past curfew, son. What house are you in?" called a man, in black staff robes, descending the stairs.

"Oh, I'm not a student," Harry answered. "Apologies for the disturbance."

The man came to a stop in front of Harry and his stern look melted away to one of relief. He was middle aged, with blonde hair clipped short, and tidy. His blue eyes twinkled as he smiled.

"Of course you're not, Mr. Potter. Apologies are mine. I'm Andrew Harrison, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor," Andrew introduced, holding out his hand.

"Forgive me if I don't shake," Harry begged. "I was just out running and am a bit of a sweaty wreck. But please, call me Harry."

"No worries Harry," Andrew reassured. "I've been looking forward to meeting you. Minerva informed me that you'd be joining me for a few classes this week."

"Yeah, I'm hoping I don't make too much a fool of myself. I'm not the best at being center stage," Harry fretted.

"I'll walk with you back to the guest quarters," Andrew offered, moving back towards the steps. Harry nodded and followed. "You don't have to speak to the classes if you don't want. I won't force you."

"That's kind of you, Andrew. But, I promised Professor McGonagall that I would share some of my experiences from training, so far. And in return, she has graciously allowed me to spend my vacation here."

"Why would you want to spend your time off back at school?" Andrew asked as they turned a corner.

Harry grinned and admitted, with a sigh, "A girl."

"Ahh," Andrew, nodded. "I can imagine the long distance takes a toll. May I ask who the lucky lady is?"

"Ginny Weasley, from Gryffindor."

"Oh, Miss Weasley! She's one of my best students! I believe along with her brother, and Hermione Granger, they could teach the class as well, if not better than I. I guess that's to be expected though, with you as their mentor."

"We've been through quite a bit together, so I'm happy to share a few things I've learned in exchange for time with them."

Andrew stopped outside the guest door. "Well, I'm happy to have you as part of my class. If there's anything you need, please don't hesitate to ask." With a wave, he set off to finish his patrol shift.

Harry let himself into his room and collapsed onto the feather bed. Within seconds, he was fast asleep.

A/N- Just wanted to put it out there that I've created a Facebook page to help readers keep up to date on my stories. It will also allow me to respond more directly to comments and questions. If you'd like to check it out, here's the address- PrettiestStar17/


	14. Chapter 14

The following morning, Harry woke and quickly showered. After pulling on fresh jeans and a thick sweater, he hurried off to the hospital ward. He found it empty, aside from a first year who had caught the wrong end of a Twitchy-Ear hex. Madame Pomfrey informed him that following much begging and pleading, she had released Ginny under strict orders to take it easy for the day.

Harry's stomach grumbled and he hoped that he would find Ginny, and breakfast, in the Great Hall. His senses were rewarded with the smell of bacon and sausage as he entered the hall. Scanning the Gryffindor table, he found Ginny sitting with Demelza and Hermione. He swooped over and kissed the top of her head.

Ginny looked up and beamed at him as he sat down beside her. "Shouldn't you be at the staff table, Mr. Potter?" she teased.

"Trying to get rid of me already?" Harry feigned resentment.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Ginny replied, kissing his cheek.

"Incredible game yesterday, Demelza," Harry complimented, spearing sausages and dishing eggs onto his plate. "I was telling Ginny yesterday, I don't think I've ever seen a game like that one. You two work great together."

Demelza blushed and thanked him. It wasn't long before Ron joined them.

"What are your plans for the week then mate?" Ron asked, shoveling half a sausage into his mouth.

"I don't really have many," Harry replied. "At some point I want to go visit Teddy and Andromeda. And I'm sure Hagrid will have me round for tea. Mainly, I'm just looking forward to spending time with everyone."

"What made you come back here though?" Hermione inquired. Ginny loudly cleared her throat and glared at Hermione. "Oh, I don't mean it like that. I, of course, am delighted to see you Harry, and am thrilled that you are here. I just meant, it sounds like it might have been interesting to stay and experience this Thanksgiving holiday."

Harry laughed and patted Ginny's leg. "I think I got an invitation from just about everybody in class to come spend the break with them-"

"Even that devil woman, Sophie?" Ginny interrupted, her eyes narrowed.

"No, actually. She's kept her distance since I lost my patience and set her straight last month." Harry reassured. "Cliff's description of his family's Thanksgiving dinner did sound mighty impressive, but I couldn't imagine spending an entire week with any of them, without classes and my own room to give me a reprieve from insanity." He wrapped an arm around Ginny's waist and gave her a squeeze. "And none of them could compare to my present company."

"That Sophie needs to keep herself in check," Ginny spat, harshly stabbing a sausage with her fork.

"Well, we have a good bit of work to finish up today," Hermione regretted. "We'll definitely meet back up for lunch though."

"We have plenty of time to catch up," Harry assured. "I know you all have a lot on your plates this year and I certainly don't want to distract from that."

"I don't think my concussed brain can handle schoolwork right now," Ginny remarked, dramatically placing her hand on her forehead. "I specifically remember Madame Pomfrey saying that the best path to recovery was a stroll around the grounds, with a tall, dark, and handsome green eyed man."

"If it's doctor's orders, then I guess you can't refuse. But, where are you going to find a guy like that?" Harry playfully pondered, swiftly receiving a swat on the shoulder.

When the breakfast food had been vanished, Harry followed along up to the Gryffindor common room. The half asleep Fat Lady swung forward, after Ron shouted "Gurdy Roots!" at her, for a third time. Hermione and Ginny clambered up the staircase to the girls' dormitory, while Harry and Ron sank into one of the squashy sofas by the fireplace.

"So, this Cliff bloke," Ron started.

Harry laughed and shook his head. "He's got nothing on you mate," Harry insisted. "Great guy, and he's helped me out a lot, but I can't see taking down an all powerful dark lord with him."

"And Sophie?" Ron asked, in a low voice, arching his eyebrows.

"What about her?"

"Look, I don't want to be the prying big brother, but I can't help but overhear when Gin talks about stuff to Hermione," Ron said slowly. "It sounds like Sophie comes on a bit strong and isn't used to being denied….things."

Harry rubbed the back of his neck and nodded. "You're not wrong about that. But, like I said, I set her straight before Halloween and she's left me alone since, so there's nothing to worry about. You know I would never do anything that would hurt Ginny."

"I know," Ron said quickly, eyes wide. "I wasn't trying to say you would. I just know how tricky some witches can get. Remember Romilda?"

Harry winced as Ron went pale and gently rubbed his stomach. "Yeah, I remember. Don't worry, she hasn't offered me any Cauldron Cakes, and Cliff and Naomi have been keeping a lookout for when I have to subject myself to her wand during Charms."

Ron smiled and nodded. "We've missed you around here, but it's nice knowing you've fallen in with a good group of wizards. Even though they'll never compare to us…"

"No one ever will," Harry chuckled. He knew it took a lot for Ron to keep his jealousy at bay sometimes and was happy to receive his mate's blessing on his new friendships. A thought crossed his mind and Harry smiled.

"I don't know if I trust that smile," Hermione chided, suddenly appearing with a stack of books. "What are you two plotting?"

"I'm almost too afraid to ask," Ginny laughed, as she came down the stairwell, buttoning up her jacket.

"I was just thinking, you and Ron should come to Los Angeles for New Years," Harry suggested. "Ginny is coming for Christmas. You guys could come after that, stay for New Years, and then we could all go back to The Burrow for the end of the holiday break."

"That sounds brilliant!" Ron exclaimed, eyes twinkling. "Count me in!"

"I don't know," Hermione started, chewing on her bottom lip. "I was really hoping to get some serious studying done over the break." The other three looked at her with mixed looks of horror and amusement. "Don't give me those looks! Having a break from classes frees up vital revision hours."

"Books aren't outlawed in California," Harry said, raising his eyebrows.

Hermione let out a defeated sigh. "I know, it just feels like such a frivolous thing to do with so much riding on this year."

"You're dating Ron. Get used to frivolity," Ginny mused.

"Hey!"

"Ready?" Ginny asked quickly, holding out her hand.

"Very," Harry replied, grabbing her hand and following her back through the portrait hole.

Harry spent the brisk morning walking around the castle grounds with Ginny. For a few sweet hours, he was back in the spring of his sixth year, holding hands as he and Ginny trailed around the lake and stealing secret kisses behind the bushes. As he sat under a shady fern, with Ginny on his lap, Harry let his mind wander to what it might have been like for them if he had gotten to have a proper seventh year.

What if he hadn't had to break her heart after Dumbledore's funeral? What if they hadn't had to spend an entire year apart, worrying about the other's safety? Where would he be right now, if last year hadn't have been filled with so much death and destruction? Would he have had the same desire to get away to America?

Harry sighed, knowing all the 'what ifs' were useless. It was inevitable that last year's events would happen at some point. Had it not happened then, Harry would now be fighting against a larger army, with more casualties mounting and Voldemort's power spreading. All he could do now was to make peace with the past, and be happy in his present.

"Is Sophie pretty?" Ginny asked suddenly, wrenching Harry from his thoughts.

"What? Where did that question come from?"

Ginny turned to face him and locked him into a serious gaze. "You've sent me pictures of just about all the others in your class, but not her."

"I have no reason to take a picture of her. I don't want a picture of her." Harry insisted.

"That doesn't answer my question. Is she pretty?" Ginny asked again.

Harry sighed and took a few seconds to carefully craft his answer.

"She could be," Harry finally concluded.

"What does that mean?"

"It means that she isn't exactly unattractive, but the fact that she's so narcissistic takes away from any beauty that is there," Harry explained. "She has guys throwing themselves at her, but it's for purely superficial reasons.

Ginny chewed her bottom lip, thinking over his answer. "So why has she been so obsessed with you?"

"According to her, it's because I have a 'super sexy accent'" Harry sneered. "I believe it was more because I deflected her advances and she saw me as a challenge that she had to conquer."

"Your accent? What's so special about the way you talk?" Ginny giggled. "I mean, for me, your voice is one of my favorite sounds in the world, but it's certainly not the reason I love you."

"And why do you love me?" Harry queried, trying to steer the conversation down a smoother path.

Ginny's eyes softened and she smiled gently.

"Because you're Harry," she answered simply. "You know who you are and don't try to be anything, or anyone, else. You could easily ride this 'Chosen One' bollocks forever, but you don't. You want to better yourself and, in doing so, better the world. Your love for those close to you is fierce and endless, and their lives are better for just having known you." She reached up and ran her hand through Harry's hair, brushing the long strands behind his ear. "Plus, you're gorgeous but refuse to admit it, which is incredibly cute and endearing."

"Ahh, see you took it too far with the gorgeous," Harry quipped, with a laugh.

"And you have just proven my point," she lovingly growled, tugging at a lock of his hair. "You've really let your hair get long," she commented, twirling a strand around her fingers.

"I know, it's a bit ridiculous," Harry groaned, raking his fringe from his eyes. "I thought your mom was going to have a fit when she first saw me last night. If I had been able to stay longer, I would have let her cut it."

"I can cut it, if you'd like," Ginny offered, combing her fingers through the back. Harry closed his eyes, enjoying her soft touch at the nape of his neck. "I've seen mum cut Charlie's hair plenty of times."

"Sure, I don't think there's anyone else that knows my classically handsome looks better," Harry joked.

"Alright there, Potter. Don't let it go to your head," Ginny warned, drawing her wand.

Harry scooted forward, letting Ginny kneel behind him. Slowly she started severing small sections of his hair. He didn't know which was more refreshing- the cool autumn air on his now bare neck, or the feel of her fingers trailing through his hair.

"That looks better," Ginny declared, vanishing the snipped strands from Harry's shoulders and the ground. "How does it feel?"

"Perfect," Harry said, running his hand down the back of his head. "Thank you," he murmured, pulling her back to his lap.

"My pleasure," Ginny purred, leaning her face into his. She nudged his nose with hers, and let her lips lightly brush against his. Harry wrapped his arms around her waist and tilted his head slightly so that their lips met. He eagerly sought her familiar warmth, letting a hand inch up her back and entwine in her soft copper hair. Ginny matched his fervor, clutching the front of his sweater and pressing him against the tree trunk.

A shrill wolf-whistle broke into their moment and slowly Ginny unwound herself from Harry.

"Probably best not to let a professor see that," Ginny said, breathlessly, her cheeks flushed with a bright pink.

"Yeah, I'd like to be invited back in the future," Harry rasped. He smoothed out her hair and slowly stood up, before helping Ginny to her feet.

Together they walked back to the castle to meet Ron and Hermione for lunch. As they sat down, across from their friends, Luna floated over and slid onto the bench, beside Harry.

"Did you two have a nice morning?" Hermione intoned, eyeing Harry and Ginny.

"Yes, it was very pleasant," Ginny replied, helping herself to a tuna sandwich and an orange.

"It was very rude of Ernie to interrupt your kiss," Luna's melodic voice stated. "It looked like you were really enjoying each other's company."

Ron snorted pumpkin juice out his nose, while Ginny glowed beet red and sank low on the bench.

Harry grinned and turned to Luna, saying, "It was very rude indeed. We were enjoying each other's company."

"Ginny, how are you doing on your Transfiguration essay," Hermione asked loudly, changing the subject.

"Schoolwork isn't the topic change I was hoping for," Ginny groaned. She started peeling her orange and sighed. "I've started it, but just can't seem to get my head into it. It's not that it's hard, it's just quite boring, isn't it?"

"Yes! Thank you," Ron cried, before Hermione could launch into a list of reasons why it was, in fact, interesting. "I don't really care about the difference between mammals' whiskers and their length, or consistency."

"Well, if it wasn't important, Professor McGonagall wouldn't have assigned it," Hermione retorted. "If you need help Gin, I can look over it with you this afternoon."

"Erg! I don't want to waste my time this week on classes and homework," Ginny lamented.

"I'll come work with you," Harry placated, rubbing her back. "I have a list of assignments I need to complete for next week."

After lunch, Harry grabbed his bag of class work and hurried to the Gryffindor common room. The Fat Lady lit up when she saw him approach.

"My dear, Harry," she swooned. "It's so nice to see you again."

"Thanks, it's nice to be back," Harry acknowledged. "Erm, gurdy roots?"

"Of course, dear. Go right in," The Fat Lady said, swinging forward and revealing the portrait hole.

Harry found Ginny opening her Transfiguration book at a table, by the window. She had rolls of parchment spread out, with her CD player by her side. Harry reached into his bag and slid a new album across the table to her.

"David Bowie, Aladdin Sane," Ginny muttered, flipping the case around. "Any good?"

"Very," Harry affirmed. "Another recommendation from Cliff. If you like this one, I'll send along more of his work. What are you listening to at the moment?"

"I've been hooked on that Cure album you sent last month," Ginny answered, putting the headphones over her ears. "If you haven't yet, tell Cliff he has excellent taste in music."

"He hasn't let me down yet," Harry concurred. He pulled out his notebook and pen, along with his Herbology and Potions book.

"What is that?" Ginny queried, grabbing Harry's hand and examining his pen.

"It's a pen," Harry chuckled. "Works just like a quill, but the ink gets stored in a long tube and just comes out the metal end as you write. I was informed that quill and parchment went out of style, in the states, many decades ago."

"It's like a whole other world over there, isn't it?"

"It really is. I can't wait until I get to show you everything," Harry said, turning to a fresh page is his notebook.

Ginny started her music and Harry began researching the ingredients of the Wiggenweld potion and its' properties. He found himself unable to focus for more than a few minutes of a time. Ginny's hair kept catching the sunbeams, pouring through the window, and Harry would end up letting his pen fall silent, as he sat and watched her work. Eventually Harry just gave up and sat back in his seat, enjoying her presence and the low thrum of her voice, as she hummed along to The Perfect Girl.

"Why are you just staring at me?" Ginny demanded, without looking up from her work.

"It just seems surreal that I get to sit here, with you. I want to indulge in the moment," Harry answered.

"Have you gotten any work done?" she scolded, finally looking up at him.

"I've got the basics down," Harry remarked, closing his notebook. "I'll get the rest done when you lot are in classes tomorrow."

"My stuff is unfortunately due tomorrow, so can you stop staring? It's a bit unnerving."

"I doubt I'll ever stop staring, but I'll move to the couch if that helps," Harry teased, kissing her forehead before relocating to the couch.

A copy of the Sunday Prophet was draped over the arm. He picked it up and spread out on the couch. On the bottom third of the first page, a story caught Harry's eye and made his brow furrow. DEATH EATER REVIVALS STILL CROPPING UP read the title. Quickly reading, and then rereading, the article, Harry learned that small groups of escaped, and what appeared to be wanna-be, Death Eaters had been spotted congregating in Northern Ireland, the small island of Jersey, and also the Shetland and Orkney Islands, of Scotland. Each time, the Aurors had been alerted and dispatched, yet by the time they arrived at the scene, all suspects had dispersed.

"Hey, Ron," Harry whispered, looking back at the table where Ron and Hermione sat, hunched behind a tower of books. Ron glanced up and Harry beckoned him over to the couch. Hermione narrowed her eyes, obviously not pleased with the interruption. But Harry figured Ron might have been in contact with Arthur, or his brothers, and know a bit more detail about what was going on.

"Thanks," Ron breathed, flopping down beside Harry. "What's up?"

"You know anything about this?" Harry asked, keeping his voice low as he pointed to the Prophet article.

"A bit. The paper ran a similar story a few weeks ago," Ron said, his eyes skimming through the story. "I wrote to dad asking if he knew what was going on. He wouldn't put much on parchment, but he said that they had a pretty good idea about who was trying to lead these revivals. The Ministry knows who escaped during the final battle, and are on high alert. All the former death eaters that were caught, yet escaped a prison sentence, have been under strict watch. I know for a fact that Malfoy Manor got searched again, but it's all coming up clean." Ron pursed his lips and handed the paper back to Harry.

"You look a bit doubtful there mate."

Ron exhaled slowly and looked Harry in the eyes. "I don't think it's an accident that these people are being spotted."

"What makes you say that?"

"It's just that, they're not being real stealthy about it, are they? Numerous sightings, in semi-public places? I think they want everyone to know they're still out there. My bet is that they're testing out the new Ministry administration; trying to suss out how Kingsley will deal with it." Ron smiled weakly, adding, "Which I think is daft, because we've kind of already seen what he's capable of."

"Yeah, it definitely won't be the same under Kingsley, as it was with Fudge. I can't see this going too far," Harry said, tossing the paper aside.

"If you go outside of the school grounds this week, promise us you'll watch your back. We discussed it last week actually. As much as we miss you, we're quite happy you're out of the country for the moment," Ron admitted, roughly running a hand through his hair. "There's been some speculation about why you haven't been seen lately. They obviously know you haven't come back to Hogwarts. On our Hogsmeade weekend, last week, a couple of reporters ambushed us, asking where you were. We told them exactly where they could stick their quills, which ended up getting quoted the following day. Mum was none too pleased, but they had it coming."

"Voldemort is gone. Why would they care about me anymore?"

Ron stared at Harry for a second, bewilderment plaguing his face. "Are you sure you should be an Auror?"

Harry laughed and replied, "I'm starting to think you ought to be one. I'm just saying, Riddle was after me because he thought I was the one standing in the way of of his domination of the wizarding world. Which I guess I was, but only because he made it so. But, hypothetically, nothing is really standing in the way of these guys. Why would I be any concern of theirs?"

"Revenge, you numpty!" Ron cried. Ginny's head shot up and she glared menacingly at him. Ron mouthed 'sorry' at her and shot his own glare at Harry. "You killed off their leader. Why wouldn't they want to get their hands on you? My instinct says that they would most likely be looking to kidnap you and use you as leverage against the Ministry. But I don't put it past a few nutters to off you at the first chance they got, so, like Moody preached, constant vigilance while you're here."

"If that's the case, why am I just hearing about it now?" Harry asked, exasperated. "What if they get wind that I've left the country? I need to rethink what I'm going to say to these Defense classes now. You never know who's going to innocently pass along information and ends up being the weak link! What if they would have shown up at my school? Have you told your dad about all of your suspicions?" Harry was sitting up straight now, breathing quick and hard, trying to get his mind to focus. So many questions and scenarios were flying around his head, he couldn't land on just one to elaborate on.

"I've talked to McGonagall and she's been in constant contact with Kingsley, who- ouch!" Ron yelped, grabbing the back of his head.

"This is why we didn't tell him, you prat," Ginny hissed.

"But I should have been told!" Harry hissed back, furiously. "I'm not a kid here anymore. I need to know this stuff, especially when it's putting others in danger."

"Stop it, Harry. You're getting yourself worked up over what is essentially nothing, for the time being at least," Ginny insisted, sitting down between Ron and Harry. "This is nothing like the last time. It's low life wizards, with stupid views and ideas, and they will get nowhere near you. Kingsley, and the rest of the Ministry and Order, are aware of the threat and have everything under control."

"But I should have been-"

"Okay, you're right," Ginny said gently, putting her hand on his shoulder. "In hindsight, you should have been informed about it, but I think everyone was afraid you would come rushing back, ready to fight again, when there's nothing to fight. I'm sorry we didn't let you know, but we just didn't want you worrying over nothing."

Harry looked into her eyes and couldn't help but feel tears creep into his. "I can't bear the thought of losing you all again," he whispered, grabbing Ginny's hand and bringing her fingers to his lips. "We've lost enough as it is."

A few tears slid down Ginny's cheek as she caressed his cheek. "You won't lose anything, I promise," she whispered, leaning down until her forehead met his. "We're not going anywhere."

Harry gulped and nodded. He rested his hand on her chest, letting his breathing calm to match hers. "You're right, I probably would have been fighting like mad to get back here had I heard about it all earlier. It's probably for the best that I got the news face to face, not by letter."

"Let's gather up this stuff and head to the library," Ginny suggested.

"Gin, I doubt I'll be able to concentrate on my work now."

"I'm sure I can find a way to persuade you," she said, with a wink, as she stood and tugged his hand. Turning around, she slapped Ron's leg before going to to get her things from the table.

"Merlin! What was that for?" Ron cried.

"Because I could," Ginny replied, sticking out her tongue.

Harry suppressed a smile when he heard Hermione's giggle, behind him. He gathered his supplies and followed Ginny to the library. She staked out a secluded corner and, with brief snogging sessions when Madame Pince was out of view, they were able to finish their assignments by the time dinner rolled around.

That evening, Harry and Ginny snuggled up on an oversize armchair to watch Ron and Neville play Wizarding Chess, while Hermione continued studying.

"You're an excellent tutor," Harry mumbled against her neck. Ron's bishop viciously took out one of Neville's pawns, then carelessly tossed the pieces to the side.

"And you're not a half bad student," she giggled, leaning her head to the side and allowing Harry easy access to her sensitive spots.

Harry hummed and nuzzled his nose behind her ear. "You have me warm and relaxed here. I hate to have to upset the balance for my run."

"It's not curfew yet. I'll come running with you."

"You want to come running with me?" Harry laughed. He immediately regretted the laugh because Ginny whipped her head around and scowled.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing at all," Harry replied, raising his hands in defense. He didn't want to dig himself into that hole. "Meet you at the front doors in fifteen?"

"Make it ten," she said, jumping to her feet and dashing up to the dormitory.

Harry rushed back to the guest quarters and threw on his running attire. When he got outside, Ginny was already there. Her hair had been swept up into a bun and she was in a long sleeve shirt and a pair of sweatpants, that looked as though they had been passed down through several Weasley brothers. When she saw Harry, her eyes went wide and she started chewing her bottom lip.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, looking behind him and to the sides, as he walked over to her.

"I have a lot to thank Cliff for," Ginny muttered, running her hands up Harry's bare arms and then down his chest.

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, grasping one of her hands and setting off towards the lake.

"This isn't what I left behind three months ago," Ginny replied. She let her gaze rake up and down Harry's body, stumbling over a rock as she tried to keep up.

"Hey now," Harry scolded, pulling her close. "I'm not a slab of meat, hanging in the window of a butcher shop."

"Oh puh-leeze!" Ginny exclaimed. "I remember someone going slack-jawed and speechless over a certain red dress."

"Fair enough," Harry conceded with a chuckle. "It was a spectacular dress."

They reached the lake and started stretching.

"I'll keep my pace slow, so you can keep up," Harry reassured, stretching his arm across his chest.

"You just worry about yourself, Potter."

"Do I detect a challenge in your tone?"

"We'll just see who keeps up with whom," Ginny goaded.

"All right then Weasley, let's go."

At those words, Ginny sprinted off, around the water's edge, and was a blur before Harry registered her departure. He tore off after her, and caught up quickly, drawing himself even and matching her pace.

"Nice of you to join me," Ginny called, before blazing ahead once more.

Harry laughed and upped his speed. For three laps, they tested each other's speed and determination. As they came to end of the third lap, Ginny slowed until Harry was at her side.

"Want to make this last lap interesting?" she puffed.

"What did you have in mind?" Harry wheezed.

"I win, you have to sing me a new song."

"What do I get if I win?"

"What do you want?"

"I want to not be hexed by McGonagall, so I'll go with my second choice. You have to sing to me, for once."

"Deal! Start and finish line is this gnarled tree coming up," Ginny said, pointing ahead. Harry nodded and Ginny counted down. "Three…two…one, go!"

Ginny darted off ahead and Harry took his time catching up. It wasn't long before he was only a few paces behind her, and he stayed in that position until the gnarled tree came back into view. On the home stretch, Harry quickened his run and snagged Ginny around the waist. He scooped her up and carried her over the finish line.

"What the hell do you called that?" Ginny shrieked with laughter, wriggling against Harry's hold.

"I call that a tie."

"I call that cheating!"

"Guess the sorting hat was right. I do have a bit of Slytherin in me," Harry panted. He set Ginny back down and kissed her.

"You're a sweaty mess," she laughed, against his lips.

"What do you think you are?" Harry smiled and swiped sweat soaked tendrils behind her ears.

"That was fun," Ginny said, leaning her head against his chest. "Can I join you for the rest of the week?"

"As if you have to ask," Harry replied. He wrapped his arm around her waist and started slowly started back to the castle. "So what are you going to sing for me?" He watched as she stared off in thought. Slowly a smile played across her face.

"I'd love to touch the sky tonight, I'd love to touch the sky," she started softly. "So take me in your arms, and lift me like a child. And hold me up, so high, and never let me go. Take me, take me in your arms tonight."

"Hold me, hold me up so high. And never let me down," Harry joined in. "Hold me, hold me up so high. To touch the sky, just one more time. Take me in your arms tonight. Take me in your arms, just one more time."

He led Ginny around to a shadowed area, at the side of the castle. His lips quickly found hers and he let himself melt under her warmth. He parted his lips, inviting her tongue to explore. Her fingers danced up his chest and into his hair. Harry let his hands stray to just above her bottom as Ginny's fingertips grazed the nape of his neck.

"I adore you," Harry breathed against her lips.

"How do we make this week last forever?" Ginny whispered, nipping his bottom lip.

"Maybe if we just never go back in."

Ginny glanced at her watch and frowned. "I have exactly seven minutes till curfew," she moaned, pouting her freshly kissed lips.

"Come on, I'll walk you back."

Before they reached the portrait of the the fat lady, Ginny stopped and pulled Harry in for a goodnight kiss.

"You still owe me a song," she insisted, before disappearing through the portrait hole.

Harry stood there, grinning, knowing what he was truly thankful for.

A/N- Song lyrics from One More Time, by the Cure


	15. Chapter 15

"Harry! There you are!" a voice cried.

Harry's head jerked up from his Concealment essay, and he looked back to see Hermione behind him.

"Hey, what's up?" he asked.

"You're supposed to be coming to Defense class with us today, remember?"

"Yeah, I know," Harry replied, pointing to the staff robes slung over the chair beside him. "I was just get-"

"Harry, class starts in five minutes! We need to move," Hermione urged, motioning down the row of bookshelves.

"Damn," Harry whispered, jumping out of his seat. He hastily shoved his materials into his bag and grabbed the robes. "Sorry, I lost track of time. There's no clock back in this corner."

"Why were you all the way back here anyway?" Hermione asked, walking quickly towards the library exit.

They reached the corridor and Harry handed Hermione his bag so he could slip the on spare staff robes he had been given. The black robes were the most uncomfortable thing he'd ever had to wear, outside of Privet Drive. They were hot and scratchy, and he was glad he only had to suffer through them for one more day.

"When I sit up at the main tables, people keep talking to me and I don't end up getting much work done. Thank you," he sighed, taking his bag back. "The last time I checked my watch, I had like forty-five minutes left. It just went by so quick. Where are the others?"

"We split up," Hermione puffed, as they started climbing a staircase. "Ginny went to check your room and Ron volunteered to check the kitchen, because, well, Ron. We figured you wouldn't have gone too far."

As they got closer to the classroom, they could hear arguing.

"No, I don't want a pasty! You were supposed to be looking for Harry, you git," Ginny yelled.

"I was looking for him, calm down. Not my fault they loaded me up with food before I left," Ron spluttered.

"Both of you calm down. I found him," Hermione panted, jogging past them and into the classroom.

"Pasty?" Ron offered, holding the small pie out to Harry.

"Thanks," Harry accepted.

"Honestly," Ginny fumed, following Hermione into the room.

Harry shrugged and headed to the front of the classroom. Andrew Harrison was laying out his book and parchments.

"Hello Harry!" Andrew greeted. "One last day of picking your brain. I'm sure you'll be happy to have a break from having questions fired at you."

Harry laughed and shook his head. "I've gotten used to it over the years. And I've actually been looking forward to this class. I'm anticipating certain questions, and this time I can call in reinforcements," Harry said, nodding towards his friends.

Ginny was sitting at the end of the second row, glaring at Ron as he stuffed another pasty in his mouth. Hermione sat between them, pushing frizzy strands of hair back from her face. Harry grinned and took the seat in the front corner of the room.

He had surprisingly enjoyed talking to the Defense classes through the week. Originally the discussions were supposed to be about his Auror training, but he ended up getting just as many questions about the war. Andrew had been hesitant to allow it, but Harry found himself wanting to answer the questions. People were naturally curious about Voldemort's downfall, and he felt they deserved honest answers.

The younger students were mostly interested in asking about silly rumors they had heard about from parents or older siblings. As the years went up, the questions started getting a bit more complex and more career focused, but also lots of specifics about the final battle. With the seventh year N.E.W.T. students, he was looking forward to having Ron and Hermione's help in answering questions.

"Alright, let's take our seats," Andrew called. "I'm looking at you, Mr. Snow." Harry recognized the Slytherin Chaser, as he scurried back to his seat. "As you know, we have had a guest with us in the castle this week, and he has been gracious enough to give up some of his vacation time to talk with us about what he's been experiencing in his post-Hogwarts educational endeavors. I don't think he needs much of an introduction for you lot, so I'll just step aside and let Harry have the floor."

Claps and cheers sounded, as Harry stood and moved to the center of the room. He smiled as he tried to adjust the robes away from his body as much as possible. Swiping at the beads of sweat already forming on his forehead, he cleared his throat.

"Hey there," Harry greeted. "I think this is the class I've been most looking forward to sitting in with and talking to-"

"I can't imagine why," Seamus called, winking.

"Shut it, Seamus," Ginny snarled, causing some snickering from other students.

"No, really," Harry laughed. "I think I know just about everyone in this room, so I feel a bit more relaxed." Harry swiped sweat from his head again and frowned. "Well, almost. I could do without these robes." Seamus let out a whistle. "Shut it, Seamus. Professor, if I happened to have 'misplaced' my staff robes today, would it be the worst thing in the world?"

"I can see how they could easily go missing," Andrew answered, nodding his head.

"Oh, thank Merlin," Harry sighed, undoing the black robes and tossing them to the corner. "That's better. So, I'll keep my intro short and sweet. Instead of coming back here, I decided to flee the country and start Auror training. I'll try to answer any questions you guys have, about anything."

"Really? Anything?" a voice piped up, from the back.

"Yeah, anything."

"What sort of classes are required in Auror training?" asked a girl, in the front row.

"There's of course a Defense Against the Dark Arts class. This semester I also have classes in Charms, Potions and Herbology, and Concealment and Disguise. From what I can gather, the spring semester will be the same, except we swap out Concealment and Disguise for Stealth and Tracking"

"What's the Herbology class like?" Neville asked.

"It's great, actually. It's paired with Potions and taught by the same professor," Harry explained. "Apparently most Aurors like to grow and brew their own stuff, in order to know exactly what's going into their potions."

"So, where is this school?" Leo Snow called out.

"Can you forgive me if I pass on that question?" Harry apologized. "I haven't told many people. It helps keep nosey Prophet reporters away."

The next few minutes were filled with questions about his training, and what else he would have to go through to become a fully qualified Auror. Andrew helped clear up some of those specifics, as Harry wasn't quite sure what the final two years in London would entail.

"But, you're definitely coming back after this first year?" a familiar voice inquired.

Harry glanced over and met Ginny's grinning face. "Yes, I'm definitely coming home after next semester," Harry assured, causing a ripple of giggles.

"Did you really break into Gringotts, and then escape on a dragon?" a Hufflepuff girl asked.

Harry grinned at the sudden subject change, and nodded. "Yeah, that rumor is actually true. There was no other way out, without getting snatched by Death Eaters."

"I find that one hard to believe," Leo Snow challenged.

Harry's brow furrowed for a moment. He was becoming less and less a fan of this boy by the minute.

"I do have some pretty credible witnesses that can back me up," Harry replied, motioning to Ron and Hermione.

"Totally flew a dragon out of the bank," Ron corroborated.

"It wasn't as fun as what it sounds, though," Hermione supplied. "It was quite terrifying actually."

Leo Snow narrowed his eyes, suspiciously, but didn't say anything else. He did, however, open up a flood of questions about where the three friends had been last year, and what they had been looking for. Harry did his best to describe the horcruxes, without going into too much detail. He also left out the part about himself being the final one. That piece of information felt just a bit too personal, and not something he wanted everyone knowing. Hermione described how she was able to figure out what could destroy a horcrux, and Ron regaled the class with his tale of reopening the chamber of secrets to get more basilisk fangs.

As Harry listened to his friends tell their tales, he smiled. It was slightly odd, being able to see some humor in what had been a truly horrific time in their lives. Looking back on it all, he still couldn't believe they were actually alive, and able to refer to it all in the past tense.

As the class was winding down, Harry was able to steer the conversation back to Auror training. He was sharing how Jason Carter went undercover as a woman, when movement in a portrait caught Harry's attention. He looked over and smiled at the amused expression on Albus Dumbledore's face.

Andrew walked over and clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Thank you so much for spending time with us Harry. Maybe you'll see some familiar faces when you're at the Auror Institute next year."

"Thanks for letting me take over the classes, Professor."

"My pleasure," Andrew replied, shaking Harry's hand. "Right, as for you lot. Whatever I told you was due today, I give you the gift of an extension. Though I expect to see nothing except Exceeds Expectations gracing my desk next week. You're dismissed!" he declared, waving his hand towards the door. Turning back to Harry, Andrew pointed to the portrait and explained, "Dumbledore requested to be here for this class."

Harry nodded as Ginny came up to the desk.

"You'd make a good professor," she smiled, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"I don't think I'd last one week," Harry laughed, kissing the top of her head. "I'm going to go talk to Dumbledore. Can I catch up with you later?"

"Of course. Want to meet me on the pitch after my last class? I'll nick Ron's broom for you."

"Sounds great. I'll see you soon."

She kissed him quick before scurrying out of the room. Harry gathered up his discarded robes and walked over to the portrait.

"Good afternoon, Professor," Harry greeted.

"I have to say, Harry, I agree with Miss Weasley. You would make an excellent teacher," Dumbledore acknowledged.

"Oh, you heard that?" Harry asked, slightly blushing.

"Apologies, but it's a bit dull being a painting. I find myself accidentally overhearing many conversations that were probably considered private."

"Oh, no, it's not that. I just don't see myself being a very good teacher."

"You're honest with them Harry. Children tend to respect and appreciate honesty from adults. A sentiment I learned a bit too late in life," Dumbledore said, frowning.

Harry looked down at his feet, letting the words hang in the air, between them for a moment.

"I don't blame you for anything," Harry finally said, looking back up. Dumbledore started to say something, but Harry interrupted. "I did, at one time. I was angry. I thought you should have done more. But, I've come to realize that you did exactly what you had to do. I have to believe that any more, or any less, and we wouldn't be here today."

"Why do you feel you have to believe that?" Dumbledore questioned.

"If I don't believe that, then I'll drive myself mad with what ifs," Harry asserted. "And that won't benefit anyone, aside from an asylum gaining one more patient."

"I always maintained that you were wise beyond your years, Harry. Even when you were eleven." Dumbledore's painted face beamed at Harry. "I was so pleased when Kingsley told me of your decision to attend the Auror training."

"You think I chose the right location?"

Dumbledore chortled and nodded. "I take it you've been fighting an internal struggle on that one."

Harry sighed. "I wasn't, until I learned of this new Death Eater threat. Now I feel like when I leave on Sunday, I'll just be abandoning everyone and leaving them to fight my battles."

"This isn't just your battle anymore. Trust that others are taking care of this threat," Dumbledore urged. "Again, I agree with Ginny Weasley on this one."

"You were there the other night?" Harry felt his cheeks burn crimson. He had suffered a moment of weakness that night, and he had hoped few had witnessed.

"No, but the walls have ears," Dumbledore replied, with a wink. "I think Miss Weasley is a good balance for you, not that I have much experience to base my comparison. But I've noticed how the two of you get along, and I can tell she's someone worth holding on to. So, to answer your original question, yes. I do think you've chosen a great location to study and broaden your horizons. Your home will always be here when you need it."

"I don't think I'll ever stop worrying, or trying to take on more than what's expected of me," Harry warned.

"And I don't think anyone would expect anything less from you," Dumbledore conceded. "But, put your trust in Kingsley, and the rest of the Order. They have this one under control. Go on now. Enjoy the rest of your holiday. Don't let an old man eat up all of your time."

"It was good to talk to you again, Professor."

"Come find me this summer and do let me know how your first year went."

"I certainly will."

Harry and Dumbledore bid each other farewell and Harry went back to the library, to resume his work. He made sure to pick a spot that he could see a clock this time, so as not to be late meeting Ginny. Just as he was getting back into his Concealment essay, someone flopped into the chair next to him. Harry looked up and was relieved to see his best friend grinning back at him.

"No class?" Harry asked.

"Nope. Hermione and Ginny are in Arithmancy, so it's one of my few female free periods of the week," Ron replied, rolling his eyes slightly. "Can I convince you to skip homework and hang out?"

"No convincing needed," Harry answered, closing his book. After stashing his bag in the guest quarters, he and Ron went outside. The bright autumn sunshine was a welcome relief after the dim library.

"Just to give you a head's up, Ginny plans on nicking your broom so her and I can have a fly."

Ron chuckled and shook his head. "Or I could just go get it for you so my little sister doesn't have to resort to petty theft."

"If you don't think she hasn't already gone down that path, you've been living in a cave."

The two walked down to the Quidditch pitch and Ron unlocked the broom closet. He passed Harry his Cleansweep and relocked the cabinet.

"Thanks, mate. I won't beat it up too much." Harry took the broom and led the way down to the field.

"You never did join a Quidditch team, did you?" Ron remarked, lying down and spreading out on the grass.

"No, never really got the chance to." Harry sat down, cross legged, beside Ron. "I got caught up in the newness of everything over there, and then quickly bogged down with classwork. Between that and trying to maintain a social life, so I don't go insane missing you guys, Quidditch ended up at the bottom on the to-do list."

Harry turned his face up to the sun and shut his eyes, enjoying the heat on his face. Los Angeles was great, but it lacked a change in seasons. It seemed to go from hot to warm, never obtaining the perfect chill that autumn brought. Within the next month, these grounds would be covered in white, with enchanted snowballs sailing through the air towards their gleefully screeching targets. Harry frowned, realizing how much he missed those afternoons.

"Alright there, Harry?" Ron called, breaking into Harry's memories.

"Yeah, just getting lost in my mind," Harry replied. He moved the broom from his lap and lied down on his back. "How is it going for you and Hermione so far?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see his friend sit up and look around, making sure they were alone.

"Challenging," Ron groaned. "Over the summer, I got used to not being with her, every single minute of the day. We each had our own things going on, and when we got time to be together, it was great. Now, it feels like we do everything together, and it starts to get a bit wearing."

"You talk to her about it?"

"No, and I know I probably should. I just really want to avoid a fight if I can."

"Bet you if you brought it up, she'd tell you she feels the same way. Or at least would understand why you're feeling the way you are," Harry ventured.

Ron nodded, aimless pulling up blades of grass. "I was thinking about talking to McGonagall about helping George out, at the shop, on weekends. I've been missing it, and I have some ideas that I'd like to try out. I don't want Hermione to think that I'm trying to get away from her, but it would be nice to have something that's just for me. "

"Just be honest with her about why you're doing it." Harry thought for a moment. "You know, I almost didn't tell Ginny about Sophie. Didn't want to make her upset, or make her worry over nothing."

"If it was nothing to worry about, why'd you tell her then?"

"I love her, and she deserves to know what's going on. The more I debated on it, I realized that I actually wanted her to know. You want someone to be in your life, you need to be willing to open yourself up to them."

"This is turning into some sappy life lesson," Ron groaned, and Harry laughed.

"According to your girlfriend, I've turned into a romance master, so you could do a lot worse than taking my advice," Harry chided, tossing a chunk of grass at Ron's head.

"What's up with all the music lyrics anyway? I think you've got about half the girls in the house falling madly in love with you!"

"How many people does she share my bloody letters with?!" Harry cried, bolting back up.

"Simmer down," Ron chuckled. "She doesn't pass around your letters. She shares the pictures you send, with the handwritten lyrics on them, which the girls go gaga over. I do notice, though, the hearts you put next to certain songs on those disc things."

"Sometimes songs are just able to say things in a way that I can't," Harry explained, lying back down. "So maybe I'm not really a romance master. I'm just masquerading as one."

"Well, whatever you're doing seems to be working for you and Ginny," Ron conceded.

Harry relaxed on the pitch with Ron, chatting about schoolwork, Quidditch matches, and merchandise ideas that Ron had been working on for Wizarding Wheezes. Caught up in conversation, neither of them noticed Ginny, until she kicked Harry's foot.

"Hey," Harry greeted, propping himself up on his elbows. "You're brother didn't want you corrupting your morals, so he willingly lent me his broom."

"You don't need to worry about corrupting my morals, big brother. Fred and George did that long ago," Ginny laughed, pulling Harry to his feet. "Since you're both here, want to play a game?"

Harry gave Ron his broom back and went to grab one of the school brooms. Ginny hauled out the trunk of practice balls, but only took out the Quaffle. Ron got into the Keeper position and Harry and Ginny took turns trying to get the ball past him.

"Get it together, Potter!" Ginny yelled, diving for the Quaffle, as Harry had dropped it for the hundredth time. "You're making us look like amateurs."

Harry laughed and glided to the other side, anticipating her next pass. She tossed the Quaffle to him, underhanded, as though she was throwing it to a toddler. He caught it easily, and clutched it to his chest as he steered his broom towards the left goal post. His feeble goal attempt was lazily blocked by Ron, and he heard Ginny huff.

"You're dating a seeker, not a chaser!" Harry cried, defensively. "You let that Snitch loose, and I'll score some points. I may as well have grease on my fingers when it comes to the Quaffle."

"You think you could still catch the Snitch?" Ginny taunted. "It seems as though you're pretty rusty."

"I'll show you who's rusty. Go on Weasley, let it fly," Harry called.

"Which Weasley?" Ron and Ginny echoed.

Harry rolled his eyes, and Ginny flew back to the trunk. "Ok then. Let's see how quick you think you are."

She picked up the golden Snitch and it's wings instantly started buzzing. She let it go and Harry allowed about a half a minute to tick by, before he took off after it. Being back on a broom, even a beat up loaner broom, was exhilarating. Beach Volleyball on broomsticks was fun, but there was nowhere near the same rush as when he pelted up and down the pitch. For the first few minutes, Harry didn't even bother searching out the Snitch. He tested the limits of the broom. To his delight, the speed was still there, even if the ride wasn't as smooth as his Firebolt.

"We haven't got all day, Harry!" Ginny teased.

Harry waved her off and started scanning the field for a hint of gold. It didn't take him long to spot it, hovering in front of the Ravenclaw stands. He raced after it, and the Snitch whizzed away, towards the empty set of goalposts. As Harry closed in on it, the shiny sphere darted across to the opposite posts, that Ron still guarded.

Harry zipped over Ginny's head and coaxed the broom's speed faster, aiming for the central hoop. Ron dove to the left, as Harry pelted through the hoop and seized the Snitch, before it could skirt away again. He drifted back to the trunk and handed the Snitch back to Ginny.

"Just think what I could do with my own broom."

Ginny smiled as she put the Snitch back in it's little compartment. "Never doubted you for a minute. I just wanted to see that intense look you get when you're in pursuit."

Harry tried to act shocked and dismayed, but Ginny just laughed again and kissed him.

"And this is where I take my leave." Ron tossed the Quaffle to Ginny. "Want me to lock the brooms up?" Ron offered, holding out his hand.

"Thanks, mate," Harry said, handing his broom over. "We'll see you for dinner."

Ron started off for the castle and Harry followed Ginny into the Gryffindor stands. When he sat down, she snuggled into his side, wrapping her arms around him.

"I don't want you to leave," Ginny sighed. "It's been so nice having you here, this week."

"We still have one more day together," Harry comforted. The wind picked up, and her hair tickled his nose. She huddled closer, rubbing her hands together. Harry pulled a pair of gloves from his pockets, and shifted so that he could slip them over Ginny's fingers. "And after that, it'll be no time at all before we're together again."

"But after that-" Ginny started, but Harry cut her off.

"Let's burn that bridge when we get there," he said softly, pulling her close again. "I don't want to think about that. I want to think about lying on a sunny beach, with you by my side. Or riding the ferris wheel, at the pier, and getting stuck at the top. I really want to take you up to the Griffith Observatory, so you can look out and see the entire city."

"That all sounds lovely," Ginny agreed. Her body relaxed against his. Together, they watched the sun as it began it's descent, as the time ticked closer to dinner. "You still owe me a song," she said, breaking the silence.

Harry buried his face in her hair and grinned. He thought for a moment before settling one he knew she hadn't heard before.

"For you, there'll be no more crying. For you, the sun will be shining. And I feel that when I'm with you, it's alright. I know it's right," Harry sang slowly. Gently swaying, back and forth, he continued, "To you, I'll give the world. To you, I'll never be cold. Cause I feel that when I'm with you, it's alright, I know it's right."

"Keep going," Ginny whispered.

"And the songbirds are singing, like they know the score. And I love you, I love you, I love you…..like never before."


	16. Chapter 16

"I got it! I got it!" Harry called, arms outstretched. He shifted his broom forward but misjudged the ball's position. In his attempt to backtrack, Harry overcorrected and ended up with his face in the sand. His riderless Firebolt dropped onto his back with a thud.

"Still with us Potts?" Cliff asked, hovering beside Harry.

Harry spat the sand from his mouth and groaned, "Yeah, I'm good." He pushed himself to his feet and remounted his broom. "Just trying to make the girls look good."

"Oh, honey," Emma laughed, flipping her, now pink, hair over her shoulder. "We do that all on our own. Look alive, Harry! Serving!"

She tossed the volleyball up and, with an alarming overhand serve, sent it screaming towards Cliff. He quickly moved back and set it up for Harry. Harry bumped it back over the net, to Naomi. She was right there to slap it back, in an attempt to catch Harry off guard. But Harry was ready and slammed it right back. The ball fell just short of Naomi's hands, as she dove to the front of her broomstick.

"A well-deserved point for the men!" Cliff cried, exchanging high fives with Harry.

They were coming off their first week back from Thanksgiving break. Five minutes after Harry's return, Emma came knocking, announcing that she would be holding daily study sessions until the week of final exams. She was determined that all of them would ace their tests and nobody got left behind. The Broomstick Volleyball game was their break from a three hour period of non-stop Potions and Herbology revision. They were currently playing two on two, girls against guys, with Alana opting to be the scorekeeper, as an excuse to stay off a broom.

"That ties the score at 10," Alana announced.

"Then next point takes it all," Emma said, throwing the ball to Harry. "Your point, your serve."

Harry pursed his lips and stared at the ball. He had slowly gotten the hang of the gameplay, but serving was not his strong point. Finding his balance on the Firebolt, he held the ball out in his left hand. "Serving!" he called out, throwing the ball up and smacking it across the net, to Emma. She threw her hands up, but not quick enough. The ball smacked her on the forehead and she tumbled off her broom.

Harry and Cliff jumped off their brooms and hurried over to Emma. "I'm so sorry, Emma!" Harry quickly apologized. "Are you alright?"

Emma waved Harry off, saying, "I'm fine, I'm fine. You did nothing wrong. I just wasn't quick enough." She stood up, rubbing her forehead.

"I just feel like I'm the catalyst to a lot of head injuries lately."

"I'll take a page from your book and call bollocks on that," Emma replied, attempting a British accent.

"Hey, your accent is improving," Harry praised. "Call it a drawl?"

"You're back in America. We'll call it a tie," Emma corrected. "Shall we get back to studying?" she asked, looking at the rest of the group.

"I vote dinner first," Cliff replied, holding his stomach.

Emma let out a small whine and sighed, "Fine, we'll get food. And then back to the books!"

"How about Em and I go get some pizzas, you guys clear up here, and we'll meet back in Potts' room," Cliff suggested.

"Why my place?" Harry asked, chucking the volleyball at Cliff.

"Because yours is the cleanest, and furthest from the books," Cliff answered, throwing the ball back.

Harry, Naomi, and Alana shoved cash into Emma's hand and then started taking down the volleyball net. They dropped it off at the gymnasium, before heading to the dormitory.

"Oh, look. Athena has a friend," Alana cooed, walking over to Harry's desk. 'Friend' was a bit of a stretch. A large Eagle Owl was trying to stick its head into Athena's cage, desperate for food and water. Athena was perched on Harry's headboard, looking down at the intruder in disgust. Alana slowly pulled the cage away and sprinkled a few owl nuggets on the desktop. The famished owl gobbled them up quickly, then hooted at Alana for more.

Harry chuckled and went to fill a bowl with water. The owl was from the Ministry, delivering a week's worth of Daily Prophets. Before leaving England, Harry talked with Kingsley about the new Death Eater threat. The Minister's advice mirrored that of his friends and Dumbledore; don't let himself become consumed with worry, and trust in the Ministry of Magic. Kingsley was adamant they were on top of the situation, and Harry was perfectly safe. To help assuage Harry's obvious concern, he promised to send Harry a weekly package of the latest Daily Prophets, so Harry could be kept in the loop. At the last minute, Harry asked if Kingsley would let Sergeant Richmond know, figuring it couldn't hurt to have another set of trained eyes watching his back. With a wink, Kingsley assured him the Sergeant was already briefed on the situation at hand.

Harry was setting out plates when Cliff and Emma barged through the door, carrying three pizzas and a case of beer. He quickly enlarged his table to accommodate the food. As he dug into a slice, he heard a gasp from Alana.

"Harry! You're in this paper!" she called, her eyes scanning the Prophet's pages.

Harry groaned and closed his eyes. "Different Harry Potter?" he said hopefully, swallowing his bite of pizza.

"Not unless you have an identical twin." Alana flipped the paper around and raised her eyebrows. Her finger hovered above a photo of him, from sixth year. "Why would everyone be wondering where you are? And what's a Death Eater?"

"Dude, Death Eater? That doesn't sound good," Cliff said, moving in, to get a closer look at the paper.

"It isn't," Harry groaned, following in Cliff's footsteps. Alana handed him the paper, and then picked up the next issue on the stack. "And it's a long story, about why I'm of such interest back home."

"How long?" Emma queried.

"It started when I was one," Harry muttered, quickly reading the Prophet article. The paper must have been hard up for some fresh news because the article was basically a rehash of the one he had read at Hogwarts. "And apparently has not ended yet."

"We have lots of time and pizza. Want to fill us in on what we've missed?" Naomi urged, handing him a beer.

Harry chewed on the inside of his lower lip. He felt immensely conflicted. On one hand, deep down, he knew he'd eventually have to fill his new friends in on his life. As much as he enjoyed the anonymity, each one of them had opened up and let him into their lives. They deserved the same from him. But on the other hand….the other hand didn't really matter much now. If he tried to weasel out his story now, he'd destroy any trust they had built up together.

"Sure," Harry sighed, flopping onto his desk chair. "If anyone needs the loo, I'd go now." The others loaded up plates with pizza, pulled over the case of beer, and squeezed onto the couch. "I'm sorry Emma, but this is going to cut into our study time."

"Exams aren't for another two weeks. Plenty of time for that. I think this is more important at the moment. Who are these people? And why are they looking for you? Are they the reason you came to America?" Emma was ready to ask more, but Harry held his hand up.

"Let me start at the beginning," Harry begged. "I promise not to leave anything out."

And, so, Harry began retelling his story. From the night of his parents' murders to the night in May, when he had been sure he would be meeting the same fate. By the end, the girls were in tears, with Naomi hugging him tightly. Cliff sat, wide-eyed and silent.

"You've known about these creeps this whole week, and you didn't think you should tell us?" Emma scolded.

"If you haven't figured it out by now, I hate making people worry about me."

"You grew up with a crappy excuse for a family, so you may not know this, but it's the job of family and friends to worry about each other. Whether they're being pursued by a dark army, or just stalked by some vain witch." Emma smiled and playfully slapped Harry's cheek. "We like you. We'll protect you from both."

Harry grinned at her. He wasn't sure how he had gotten so lucky, crossing paths with some of the most wonderful people in the world, but he would be eternally grateful.

"Dude, how did you turn out so normal?" Cliff wondered.

Harry laughed. "You think I'm normal? You mustn't have come across many normal people in your life."

"As close to normal as one could hope to be, after everything you've witnessed," Cliff upheld. He stood and started clearing away the empty pizza boxes and beer bottles. "So, we still on for record shopping tomorrow? My sister told me about a great little shop she found on the west side."

Naomi shot Cliff a dubious look. "Harry just poured out his heart and soul to us, and you're worried about records?!"

"I'm sorry, did you want a hug from me too?" Cliff asked Harry, opening his arms.

Harry started laughing til' he couldn't catch his breath. "See, this is why I came to America. So I could meet people who didn't care about my name!"

"We don't care about your name," Naomi huffed, swatting his arm. "We care about you!"

"I know, and thank you. Really, I think you're all amazing and I'm so glad I got to come here, and meet you all." Harry hugged Naomi one more time, before joining Cliff in the cleanup. "And yes, of course, we're still on for record hunting tomorrow."

Harry floated through the following week. He had found in his American group what he had found in Ron and Hermione all those years ago- unconditional love and acceptance. They worried about his well-being for reasons that went beyond his fame and importance in the wizard community. With his heart full, his mind at ease, and Ginny's visit drawing closer, Harry felt like he could take on a dozen Death Eaters, single-handedly!

Even Sophie's continued presence at their lunch table didn't phase him. She kept her distance from Harry and mainly talked about classes and the upcoming final exams. The others seemed relaxed with her and Harry's mood was at such a high point, he figured Alana was right; giving Sophie a second chance wasn't the worst thing in the world.

Except that it was.

Friday afternoon, Harry had just come out of the dormitory and was about to head off campus, to pick up groceries for the weekend. As he reached the edge of the magical barrier, someone calling his name forced him to stop and turn. Sophie was jogging up to him.

"Harry! How are you?" she gasped, trying to catch her breath.

"Fine, and you?" Harry replied, shuffling his feet, annoyed at the holdup.

"Great! I was wondering if you wanted to go to the movies tonight?" Her bright red lips stretched into a smile. "I was just talking to the others about meeting up at the theater, around six o'clock. Would you like to come along?" she asked again.

Harry pursed his lips and thought for a moment. He was all for giving her a second chance but wasn't so keen to spend an evening with her. If the others would be there, though, it shouldn't be too bad. Plus, it was just a trip to the cinema. He wouldn't have to converse much in a darkened theater.

"Um, sure. Why not?" Harry nodded, readjusting his bag. "Six, you said?"

"Yes! Oh, I can't wait!" Sophie waved and ran off before Harry could say anything else.

When Harry returned to the dormitory, Cliff was just letting himself into his room.

"I'm gonna go grab a shower," Harry said, unlocking his own door. "I'll see you tonight, right?"

"Of course," Cliff answered. "I just have a few errands to take care of before I get to start the weekend."

"Cool, catch you guys in a few."

Harry showered, threw on some fresh jeans, and a clean, red and white Polo shirt. He shoved his wallet, keys, and wand into his pockets and went across to Cliff's room. After several knocks, the door remained closed, with no sounds on the other side. Harry figured he must have gone right back out for his errands, and they would all meet up at the cinema.

There was still a good half hour left before the meet-up time, so Harry took his time walking to the theater. The last bit of sunlight was fading, over the horizon, and the street lamps were buzzing along the streets. Despite the darkness, it was still quite early. Most of the people, bustling about, were heading home, itching to shed their work attire and start the weekend festivities. By the time they were walking back, the sidewalks would be filled with an eclectic swarm of people, heading for nightclubs, late dinners, boardwalk strolls, or to finish their holiday shopping.

Holiday shopping….Harry mentally slapped himself. He hadn't even thought about what he would get Ginny for Christmas. He would have to set aside an afternoon, the following weekend, to do some shopping.

Harry entered the theater and was met with a large crowd, vying for spots in the ticket and concession lines. In all of his eighteen years, this was only his second trip to the cinema. His first trip was when he was seven years old. Petunia and Vernon had promised to take Dudley to see the latest action movie but were left without a sitter for Harry. Fearing an epic Dudley tantrum, they took Harry along. He was given no treats and forced to sit in the very front, away from the family, but it was one of the better days of his childhood. For a brief moment, he was able to lose himself in another world, pretend that he wasn't a prisoner of that cupboard. It would be another four, long years before he felt like that again.

"Harry! Over here!"

Sophie's voice interrupted Harry's reminiscing. Looking around, Harry spotted her, waving her hands over the crowd. She had let her long, blonde hair loose, and changed into a purple dress that barely covered all the necessary areas. As he made his way through the mass of people, his eyes darted around, searching for the others.

"Where's everyone else?" Harry asked when he finally reached Sophie.

"Not sure," she quickly answered, grabbing his hand. She started to pull him towards the theaters. "I got your ticket already. Let's hurry, or we'll miss the beginning."

Harry wrenched his hand from hers, but followed along, still peering through the other patrons, hoping to see Cliff or Emma. He had no such luck. They turned a corner and Sophie led them into the dimly lit theater. Practically every seat was filled. They had to shuffle past a row of annoyed people, to get to two empty seats in the center. Harry sat down and continued to search the seats for his friends.

"What happened to the others?" he muttered.

"Must have had something come up, last minute," Sophie said, flippantly waving her hand. She rubbed Harry's leg and shot him a sultry look. "I've really been wanting to see this movie. So glad it's finally out!"

"Er, what are we seeing?" Harry asked, trying to move his leg away from Sophie's grasp. The theater seats were so tightly packed together, he wasn't able to move far.

"Shakespeare In Love," Sophie whispered, as the lights slowly faded to black.

If Harry had had an ounce of common sense, he would have bolted out of the aisle and ran back to the dormitory. His politeness overrode though, and he stayed seated, trying to cram himself into the far corner of his seat, without actually crawling onto the lap of the man beside him.

The movie was over two hours long. Sophie seemed to be enraptured by it. Harry saw her eyes glistening with tears during several moments. Harry was not as taken with the film. At least twice he fell asleep, waking himself back up just before his head fell onto his neighbor's shoulder. When the credits rolled, Harry quickly stood, with the joints in his back and legs cracking in relief. He apologized to the man beside him and received a sympathetic smile.

"You weren't the only one dozing, son," he whispered.

Harry snorted a laugh, as they slowly filed out of the theater. When they stepped out into the fresh, night air, the streets were packed, as Harry had predicted. There was no safe apparition point, and he had to endure the long walk back to the dormitory. Sophie prattled on about all her favorite, romantic parts, gushing over how handsome the lead actor was. Harry kept his hands shoved in his pockets, nodding his head and making noncommittal noises whenever Sophie paused. When they finally reached the fifth floor, he had never been so happy to see the door to his room.

"Well, that was an…..a night, I guess," Harry said, not quite knowing how to kindly describe the experience. He unlocked his door and started to say good-night, but Sophie pushed passed and walked in ahead of him. "What the hell?" Harry cried.

Sophie ignored his outrage and meandered around the room, inspecting his albums and pictures. She picked up one of Ginny's pictures and laughed.

"So, this is the _girl_ you're hopelessly devoted to?"

Harry scowled at the way she said 'girl' as if Ginny was her inferior. He crossed the room and took the picture from her hands, placing it back on the desk.

"It's been a really odd evening, Sophie. I think you should leave."

His request fell on deaf ears. Sophie made her way up to his bedroom area, running her hands across his duvet. She picked up the picture of him and Ginny, at the dance club. A disdained huff escaped as she set the picture back on his nightstand, face down. She lied down on his bed and spread out.

"So, what does she have that I don't?"

"Besides proper decorum?!" Harry exclaimed. His fists and jaw were clenched tight. "Sophie, get out. That's not a request."

"Oh, come on Harry! Don't act like you have no interest in me." She propped herself up on her elbow and patted the bed. "I promise, I won't tell a soul."

Harry's fingernails were digging deeper into his palms. "I'm not acting, there is no interest," Harry said, through gritted teeth. "And you won't tell a soul, because there's nothing to tell. For the last time, get out!"

He turned quickly and started for the door. Sophie scurried off his bed, catching up to him, as he reached for the doorknob.

"You call this nothing?"

Before Harry had a chance to reply, Sophie grabbed his shirt collar, yanked his head to hers, and planted her lips on his. She shoved her tongue shot halfway down his throat, and his brain kicked back into gear. He forced her back and yanked the door open.

Sophie leered at him for a second, with an odd, satisfied look on her face, before finally departing. Harry slammed the door and started pacing the length of his room. He couldn't believe he was dumb enough to give her a second chance! And where had everyone else been that night? They couldn't have all had last minutes plans come up at that exact time!

Harry looked out the peephole, making sure the hallway was empty. Seeing no sign of Sophie, he stormed over to Cliff's room and pounded on his door.

"Where the hell were you?!" Harry demanded, as soon as the door opened.

"When?" Cliff asked, giving Harry a puzzled look. Cliff motioned for him to come in, waving his wand at the couch, and sending a pile of clothes flying up to his bed. "I've been here all night. I came by your place earlier, but you weren't there."

"I was at the cinema, with Sophie! Where I thought everyone else was going to be tonight!" Harry cried. He walked over the couch but didn't sit down. He started pacing again. "I really could have used you guys as a buffer tonight!"

"Why were you at the movies with Sophie? And why are your hands bloody?"

"Bloody what?" Harry said, exasperated.

"No, not British bloody. Bloody, as in you're dripping blood!" Cliff explained, pointing to Harry's hands.

Harry looked down at his palms and, sure enough, they were coated bright red. He had dug his nails deeper than he had realized. "Had to do something with my hands, or else I'd be wanted for murder right now. You never talked to Sophie today, about going to the movies?"

"Nope. I've only spoken to her at lunch, this afternoon." There was a knock at the door and Cliff went to open it.

"But I asked you about it earlier," Harry protested.

Cliff let Emma in and turned back to Harry. "When you asked if I'd see you tonight, I had assumed you meant for our run."

"What's going on?" Emma inquired, walking over to Harry. "I heard yelling and wanted to make sure everyone was alright. Harry, your hands!" she shrieked, grabbing Harry's wrists.

"It's fine. It's my blood."

"You need to fix your definition of fine," Emma murmured, casting healing spells on Harry's hands.

"Did Sophie ask you to go to the movies tonight?" Cliff asked her.

"No," Emma answered, a disgusted look on her face. "Eating lunch with her is one thing, and I can't help the fact that she's in our classes. But outside of that, I avoid her like the plague."

"She duped me," Harry murmured, falling onto the couch. "And I played right into her little trap because I'm too bloody nice!"

"You went to the movies with her?" Emma said, sitting down next to Harry. "Why would you do that?"

"Because Alana was talking, before Thanksgiving, about giving her a second chance. And then you were all acting so nice to her during lunch, so I figured I'd swallow my pride and not hold a grudge. Then she asked me this afternoon to go to that awful film, and I agreed because she insinuated that she had asked all of you to go also," Harry rambled on.

"Oh, Harry! You sweet, naive man," Emma sighed, gently rubbing Harry's shoulder.

"Not helping," Harry groaned, closing his eyes. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eye sockets until he saw white spots. "But, that's not the worst of it," he continued, letting his hands flop onto the couch.

"I don't think I want to know how it gets worse," Emma muttered.

"When we got back here, she barged into my room, refused to leave, and then...kissed me." Harry shook his head, trying to rid his mind of the memory. "I really am just dumb and naive."

Cliff handed Harry a beer, and he took a long pull, paying no attention to the horrible taste. His heart sank into his stomach, and his eyes threatened to spill tears, realizing that he was now faced with an even tougher challenge.

With a cracking voice, he asked, "How the hell do I tell Ginny?"


	17. Chapter 17

"I can't believe you let him talk you into this," Emma muttered.

"He didn't talk me into it, Em," Harry repeated, for what felt like the millionth time that afternoon. "I am perfectly capable of making decisions for myself."

"Let the man live a little," Cliff called. He was currently standing in front of a full-length mirror, admiring the freshly tattooed barbed wire around both of his upper arms.

"It's going to hurt," Emma warned.

Harry laughed and shook his head, as he took off his shirt. "Have you forgotten my life story already?" He straddled a chair, while a heavily inked bloke named Troy, with a septum piercing and a tongue ring, started shaving a spot on the back of Harry's left shoulder. "I imagine a little needle will feel like a message."

"That's the spirit," Troy said, clapping Harry on the other shoulder. He transferred the design and loaded up the needle. "Ready?"

Harry nodded and braced himself. The initial touch was painful and caused him to wince. Emma's hand shot out quick and grabbed his. "I'm fine," he breathed, straining to form a smile.

"Oh yeah, that's a look of euphoria," Emma scoffed.

The pain dulled to a mild burning, as the tattoo began to take shape, and Harry was able to relax. He wasn't quite sure what had made him agree to get a tattoo. Cliff had brought up the subject the previous week. His Uncle Walt had paid for a session, at a local parlor, as Cliff's Christmas gift. When Cliff had asked Harry if he wanted to get in on the action, Harry immediately said yes.

He had never thought about getting a tattoo. His aunt and uncle, of course, despised them. To them, tattoos equaled hooliganism. It wasn't until he met Sirius, that Harry saw how tattoos hold meaning to their bearer. He knew exactly what he wanted done when Cliff suggested the idea.

"And we're done," Troy announced, swiping a cloth over Harry's shoulder. He handed Emma a black hand mirror. "Hold that up there, sweetheart. Thank you. What do you think?"

Harry looked into Emma's mirror and saw Troy holding up an identical one. In the reflection of the second mirror, the gold and red of the Gryffindor crest gleamed back at him.

"Brilliant!" Harry exclaimed, taking another moment to admire the art.

"Looks amazing Potts!"

"Thanks," Harry said, gingerly slipping his t-shirt back on.

"What's Ginny going to say when she sees that?"

Harry shrugged and nodded his head towards Cliff. "What do you think of Cliff's?"

Emma's face blushed. "What's that have to do with anything?"

Harry smiled and shook his head. He could tell that something was going on between the two friends, but neither had come forward and revealed anything. Harry kept trying to give little hints that they didn't have to hide anything, but they wouldn't crack. "I guess we'll find out what she has to say about it in a few days."

They said goodbye to Troy, with Cliff promising a return in the near future. As they started walking back to campus, Emma sidled up to Harry and gave him a nudge.

"You anxious for her to arrive?" she asked with an eager smile.

"Yeah, I can't wait for you guys to meet her. She's been so excited to meet everyone, after all my letters and pictures."

Emma abruptly changed the subject. "So, tonight I was thinking about doing one last study session."

Cliff and Harry groaned in response.

"What? We could all use it!" Emma cried defensively.

"Merlin, I can't wait for you to meet Hermione," Harry laughed. "I'm sure she'll be studying non-stop while she's here. You and her could team up."

"She sounds like a girl who has her priorities in order," Emma said, making Harry laugh harder. "Look, Sarg is giving us our first test on Patronus charms tomorrow. Alana has been been the only one able to produce one so far, and it's still not corporeal. I really think that if we work on it tonight, you could help us all be able to produce something, corporeal or not."

"She's got a point," Cliff said defeatedly. "Perhaps, under your most excellent tutelage, we could put that worry past us."

"Of course I'll help you lot," Harry said, giving Emma's pink braid a playful tug. "My room, six o'clock? I'm going to put a two-hour time limit on it though," Harry warned. "Sarge has us up bright and early, and I'm not going into that exhausted."

"Deal," Emma agreed. She turned to Cliff and narrowed her eyes. "Don't even think of bringing beer. We need clear and focused minds!"

"If you say so," Cliff said, throwing an arm around her shoulder. Emma's face suddenly matched her hair.

Back in his room, Harry enjoyed the bit of time he had to himself. He put on some music and spread out on the couch to read. The next three days were filled with final exams. First thing Monday was their Defense Against the Dark Arts test. Aside from the formal exam, Sarge would let them attempt the Patronus charm three times. If they weren't able to produce anything, the students could try again at the end of the spring semester, with the expectation of being able to conjure a non-corporeal one.

On Tuesday, they would be tested on Charms, and Concealment and Disguise. Wednesday would be the final day of exams, with Herbology and Potions. Then, Wednesday night, Ginny would arrive. They had already planned to go out to dinner to celebrate her arrival and the end of the semester.

At six o'clock sharp, there was a knock on his door. Harry flicked his wand and opened it, taking his time getting up from the couch.

"Alright, Harry. What do we do first?" Emma asked, throwing her bag on the table.

Harry suppressed a chuckle and shut off the record player. "The first step to producing a Patronus is thinking about a happy thought. Not just a nice moment, but the happiest you've ever been."

It wasn't long before his friends' faces were full of determination, trying to will their wands to cooperate with the spell. Harry coached on wand movement and encouraging them to dig deep into their memory arsenals.

"Ooh!" Alana cried, an hour into practice.

Harry looked over and saw Alana's eyes sparkle as she watched a silver sparrow soar around the room.

"It's so pretty," Naomi whispered.

"Nice one," Harry admired.

Alana sat down on the floor and sighed. "It really takes a lot of energy to conjure one."

As they neared the end of their session, everyone had produced a non-corporeal Patronus, except Emma. Harry could see she was fighting back tears as she swished her wand harshly. All she had been able to succeed at was getting her wand to emit a thin white wisp, that instantly disappeared.

When she finally paused, Harry gently clasped her wand hand and gave it a squeeze.

"It's alright, Em," he comforted. "You'll get there. We'll keep working on it. The more you stress yourself out, the harder it'll be."

Emma nodded and tucked her wand into her pocket. Cliff came over and hugged her tightly.

A sudden knocking made them all freeze and stare suspiciously at the door.

"Expecting someone else?" Naomi whispered.

"No," Harry answered. He drew his wand as he approached the door.

"We're not messing around anymore, Harry. If that's Sophie, she'll be jinxed into the next century," Emma warned.

Harry smiled and held up his hand. He looked out the peephole but saw nothing.

"No one's there." Harry turned back to his friends and shrugged his shoulders. Before he could make a move there was another knock. Behind him, four wands were drawn and ready.

Harry slowly opened the door. He caught a quick glimpse of red before a body threw itself onto him and his lips were locked into a kiss. He didn't have to see anything else to know that he had just been reunited with his missing half.

His company didn't realize this though, and angry shouts and threats erupted.

"It's okay," Harry called, quickly turning around with Ginny still in his arms. "This one's allowed to kiss me!"

"Damn straight," Ginny said, kissing him again.

"It's Ginny!" Emma squealed, lowering her wand and dashing over.

Smiling, Harry put Ginny down and started introductions.

"So it's you I have to thank for all the amazing music and fit boyfriend?" Ginny laughed as Cliff hugged her.

"Oh, that's not all you can thank him for!" Emma said, eyes gleaming. "Show her Harry! I'm so happy we get to see her reaction!"

"She hasn't even gotten her coat off yet," Harry started.

"Show me what?"

Ginny gave Harry a suspicious look that was scarily identical to her mother's. Harry held his tongue on that comment though. With a sigh of resignation, he pulled off his shirt and turned his back to his girlfriend.

"Harry James Potter! When did you do this?" Ginny exclaimed, running her fingertips around the outline of his tattoo.

"This afternoon. What do you think?"

Ginny continued running her fingers over his shoulder. "I love it." Harry turned around and grinned at her. "My mother is gonna kill you, but I love it."

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked, pulling her suitcase in. "You're supposed to be coming on Wednesday."

"I can leave and come back if you're that disappointed," Ginny said, gesturing to the door. With a giggle, she explained, "Dad was able to get me an earlier portkey so that I could surprise you this time."

"We'll get out of your way and let you two catch up." Naomi gave Harry a wink and started shooing the others out. "See you at breakfast."

Emma hugged Harry quickly as she passed. "Thanks for trying to help tonight."

"Of course," he said, patting her back. "We'll keep working and I promise you'll get it." Emma nodded and shut the door.

When Harry turned back to Ginny, she was across the room, giving herself a tour of Harry's small apartment. "They wanted to practice the Patronus charm before our Defense exam tomorrow."

"They're all just how I imagined them," Ginny said, smiling at the photographs lined up on the desk. Harry watched as she slowly made her way around the space, peeking in drawers and cupboards. "Sorry, I'm being nosy. I just can't believe I'm finally here with you! It's the only thing I've been able to think about the last month. When Dad suggested coming today, I jumped at the chance."

"It's a wonderful surprise." Harry grabbed her hand and pulled her close. "Are you cold? I can cast a warming spell. You don't have to stay in your coat all night."

Ginny slyly smiled. "No, I'm not cold," she said.

She drew Harry to her and kissed him again. The embrace slowly intensified as she started running her hands over his bare chest. Harry let a little moan escape as her fingers skimmed from the back of his neck to his cheeks.

Breaking the kiss, her lips slipped to his neck and her hands fell to undo the buttons and sash on her jacket. Harry closed his eyes as her tongue toyed with a particularly sensitive spot on his collarbone. He heard the jacket fall to the floor and grabbed Ginny's waist to pull her closer. His eyes flew open when he felt bare skin.

Ginny stepped back and Harry went speechless. Her coat lay crumpled on the floor and she stood gazing at him, in nothing but a lacy green bra and matching panties.

"Oooh….my," Harry breathed. A million thoughts whirled in his head, but he was unable to vocalize a single one.

"Is that a good 'oh my'?"

"Yeah," Harry whispered. He took a step towards her. "I, um….are you….is this…uhh…"

"Was that your complete sentence?" Ginny teased.

Harry shook his head and blew out a slow breath. "You know I want you. In every way, shape, and form, you're beautiful. More than anything, though, I want us to do things at a pace you're comfortable with, and not just because you think I'm expecting something."

"And if I tell you that _I_ want this," she said, emphasizing the last 'I' and closing the distance between them.

Harry instinctively leaned down, whispering, "Do you want this?"

"Yes," she replied, brushing her lips across his.

The million thoughts instantly dropped to one- Ginny. Their lips met once more and she buried her hands in his hair. When he lifted her up, her legs wrapped his waist and Harry carried her up to the bed.

He gently let her down and asked once more, "Are you sure about this?" as he trailed kisses across her neck.

"Absolutely."

The ragged breathlessness of her voice made Harry's body pulse. Ginny let herself fall back onto the bed, pulling him on top of her. Pushing himself up, he stared into her chocolate eyes. They gazed back at him, relaxed with a spark of mischief.

"I love you," Harry whispered.

Reaching up and caressing his cheek, Ginny smiled. "I love you, too."

He tossed his glasses onto the nightstand and then slowly began kissing and nuzzling his way down her body. Harry relished the freedom to explore every inch of her. Her skin was soft and smooth, dotted with tiny freckles. He enjoyed how responsive her body was to his touches. Leaving her bra and panties in place, he trailed his lips down to her belly. Her breath hitched and her arms flew out to the sides, gripping the edge of the mattress.

Harry's tongue was dancing around her belly button when he felt her body go still and rigid. He froze and replayed the last few seconds, wondering what wrong move he had made. He wasn't an expert at this, but he was pretty sure all his moves were pretty standard.

"What the hell?!" Ginny cried.

Harry looked up and she threw a white piece of cloth in his face. Harry pulled it away and held up a pair of silky, white underwear. He immediately dropped them on the bed and looked at Ginny.

"Where did those come from?" he exclaimed. He looked back at the panties, horrified, as if they might spontaneously combust.

"They were wedged between your mattress and nightstand. I'm more concerned about WHO they came from." Ginny jumped from the bed and glared at Harry.

"I don't know!" Harry cried.

"Panties don't just appear, Harry! So either you're wearing them, which is a whole other conversation. Or there's been another girl in your bed. Which is it?"

Harry knelt on his bed, dumbstruck. "Neither! There's never been another–" He stopped as his mind rewound a fortnight. She wouldn't have… Harry gingerly picked up the pair of underwear. "Sophie…"

Fire blazed in Ginny's eyes. She let out a scream and ran down the steps.

"It's not like that!" Harry yelled, running after her. "I didn't–"

"I trusted you! After all that talk about how horrible she was and you couldn't stand her. I'm such an idiot!" Ginny wrenched open her suitcase and started pulling clothes on. As Harry approached her, she found her wand and sent a spell at him. He was quickly thrown back and crashed to the floor.

For a second, they both looked at each other in shock. But she stood her ground, continuing to point her wand at him. "How could you do that? And then think it was okay to do what we were about to do?!"

"Ginny, please! Stop and listen for a minute." Harry held up his hand out as he slowly staggered upright. "I didn't do anything with Sophie!"

"Then there better be a good explanation because I'm about to walk out that door!"

"That night she kissed me– the night I TOLD you about– she must have planted these," Harry said, holding up the undergarment. Ginny scowled and he tossed the panties across the room. "After we came back from the cinema, she barged in here and wouldn't leave. She laid on the bed and wanted to do things. When I told her NO and walked AWAY from her, she must have left those as some sort of sick joke."

Harry shook as he waited for Ginny to respond. Her face was eerily passive as she let his explanation sink in.

"So let me get this straight. You went on a date, with another girl. She came back to your place, got cozy on your bed, before finally kissing you."

"You left out some pretty key parts," Harry started. Ginny growled and slapped his arm. "Ow! You act like I wanted all of this. I told you about the kiss that night!"

"You told me she kissed you. You didn't tell me it was after spending an evening out with her or that she spent time in your bed."

"A very brief time," Harry defended.

"That doesn't matter, Harry! Why didn't you tell me the whole story?" Ginny cried.

Harry sighed. "I guess I thought the kiss was the most important part and I just didn't think to put in the other details. It all happened so fast, I was just trying to make her go away! Then when she finally did, the only thing on my mind was telling you what she did." Harry raked his hand through his hair, tears filling his eyes. "She made me feel like a complete arse that night."

"And now she's made you look like one too." Ginny grabbed her coat and suitcase.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to go find a hotel for the night."

"Gin, you can't–" Harry started, grabbing her hand.

She ripped her hand away from him. "Don't tell me what I can do."

"No, I mean you honestly can't. You're still underage here and no hotel is going to let you a room. Just…stay here and I'll leave." He dropped his hands in defeat.

"You can't honestly think I'm going to spend the night in that bed?"

Harry flicked his wand at the couch and it folded down. From the wardrobe, he summoned blankets and an extra pillow. As he headed for the door, he grabbed a shirt from the dirty laundry.

"Where will you go?" she called after him.

"I'll figure something out."

Harry grabbed the intruding underwear and walked out. He stalked to Sophie's room and threw the underwear in front of her door. Pointing his wand at them, he called out, "Incendio!" and watched as the cloth burst into flames.

The door flew open and Sophie stared at him. He stared back, hoping the fury in his bones shone through in his eyes. The flames quickly died out, leaving nothing but ashes on the tile. Sophie's lips curled into a smug smirk, but Harry said nothing as he turned and left her standing in the doorway.

Climbing the stairs to the No-Maj lounge, Harry's heart felt like it had been ripped in half. How could he have been so dumb? Was this the final straw for Ginny? She had endured plenty of his cock-ups but always forgave him. Could she forgive this one? The look on her face had scared him. There had been no tears, only anger and betrayal marring her face.

Harry opened the door to the lounge and stopped short. Emma and Cliff were in the middle of a pretty heavy moment on the couch. Harry debated turning around and leaving them to it, but then decided he had already kicked himself out of one place and he didn't feel like doing it again.

"You guys are horrible at sneaking about," Harry said, letting the door slam.

Emma quickly shoved Cliff away and looked at Harry in surprise.

"What are you doing here? Why aren't you with Ginny?"

"Sophie," Harry grumbled, kicking an ottoman and sending it flying into the air hockey table. Harry threw himself into an armchair and let a cry of frustration.

Cliff and Emma listened patiently as Harry replayed the fight. By the end, tears were freely cascading down his cheeks.

Emma bit her lip and hesitated before saying, "She's right, though." Harry and Cliff glared at her. "What? You should have told her the whole story, not just what you thought was important.

"Babe, I know you're trying to help but really?" Cliff asked incredulously. "Harry has just been dragged through the ringer and all you can say is she was right?"

"But–"

"The man needs encouraging words right now, not a pedantic lecture about shit he already knows." Emma stared at him, mouthing the word 'pedantic'. "Yes, I have a few five dollar words up my sleeve." Cliff turned back to Harry. "Anything we can do? Want to go out for a run and blow off some steam?"

"Not tonight. I don't think anything will help me sleep tonight," Harry sighed. He picked up the television remote and started flicking through channels. He barely registered what was on each channel, but he needed something to do with his hands.

"Where are you going to sleep?" Emma asked gently.

"You can crash on my futon," Cliff offered.

"Thanks, but I'll be fine here. Like I said, I'm not going to get much sleep tonight. I don't want to keep anyone else up and sabotage exams."

Emma's face was full of concern. "What about your exams? You'll be exhausted!"

Harry let out a dry laugh. "I've passed exams under stress before. It'll be just like old times." He tossed the remote to the side and sighed again. "Sorry I barged in on you two. I won't spill your secret."

"Apparently it's not much of a secret," Emma groaned. "We just wanted to keep things quiet until we saw how things were going to work out."

"Totally opposite of Ginny and me." Harry smiled at the memory. "I blame her," he added.

"Tell us about it," Emma urged, snuggling up to Cliff. "Who made the first move?"

"We both did, I guess. She had a crush on me for the longest time, but I was so young and didn't pay it much attention. By the time I finally sat up and took notice, she was already dating someone else. One of my friends actually." Harry rubbed his eyes, panicking for a moment when he felt no glasses. Then he remembered that they were still lying on his nightstand.

Harry continued with his story. "Plus, she's Ron's sister and I didn't want to overstep any boundaries. So I kept a lid on my feelings, though Hermione saw right through me."

"What finally sealed the deal?" Emma asked. Harry puzzled over the giddy smile adorning her face. "I enjoy a good love story. Keep going."

"Quidditch sealed the deal, as you so eloquently put it. By this time, she and Dean had broken up. I had to miss our final match, due to a detention, so she filled in as Seeker. It was the match that decided who would take the Quidditch Cup and I was so angry with myself for missing it. If we lost then Ravenclaw-"

"Love story, not sports talk," Emma interrupted.

"Sorry," Harry laughed. "So, yeah, big match. I get out of detention and the game is finished. Walking back to the common room, I'm looking around for signs of whether we won or not. I step through the entrance and get hit with a wave of victorious cheers. Suddenly, Ginny's running across the room and throwing her arms around my neck. At that moment, I did the only logical thing- I kissed her."

"Aww!" Emma cooed, squeezing Cliff's hand. "Right there in front of everyone?"

"I saw my chance and took it." Harry couldn't help but grin stupidly at the memory of that first kiss.

Emma let go of Cliff's hand, leaned forward and took hold of Harry's "Give her some time to cool off. I promise you'll get through this. No woman could resist that goofy smile."

"Thank you," Harry whispered. "Go on and get some sleep...or privacy" He patted her hand and winked. "I'll see you both for breakfast."

"Anything else we can do for you?" Cliff offered, standing up.

"No, mate, thanks. Just have to hope she's still there in the morning." Harry leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "Please still be there."


	18. Chapter 18

The following morning, Harry met his friends for an early breakfast but was virtually silent for the whole affair. He was unable to sleep for more than a half hour on the lounge couch and he was pretty sure he had pinched a nerve in his search for comfort. To top it all off, he still didn't have his glasses so everything around him appeared as blurry orbs.

Harry was picking at a piece of toast when Naomi whispered, "She's here."

"Who? Ginny?" Harry sat up and started squinting around the cafe.

"No, the evil one," Emma growled, pushing her chair back.

"Sit down." Cliff pulled her arm until she returned to her seat. "You can't just start an all-out brawl in the cafeteria."

"I could if you'd let go!"

"She's not worth it," Harry muttered, shoving his toast in his mouth. "I'm gonna take a plate to Ginny and see if she wants to talk before the Defense exam."

Harry fixed up a plate of fruit and waffles and warily made his way back to the dormitory. This was the longest period he could remember going without his glasses and his head was starting to pound.

Knocking on the door, he called, "Ginny, I have to come in and get some things." Harry heard the bathroom door slam on the other side and he groaned.

He let himself in and placed the plate of food on the table. "I have some time before my exam if you want to talk," he offered, heading for the steps.

Ginny's suitcase was still in the same place and the blankets laid rumpled on the sofa bed. He frowned when he saw his desk. All his pictures had been placed face down, even ones that weren't of them. The only one still standing was a solo photo of Teddy that Andromeda had sent him.

Quickly stripping off his dirty clothes, he changed into a fresh outfit and found his glasses. Back downstairs, he leaned against the bathroom door. "Ginny, I brought you some breakfast. Can we please talk?" The sound of the shower was the only response he got. "I'll take that as a no."

He dug the extra key from his bag and set it next to the plate. After scratching out a quick note about what he had to do that day, he gave one last longing look at the bathroom door before heading for class.

As he walked into the classroom, his friends gave him sympathetic looks but said nothing. Sergeant Richmond would be arriving any moment and nobody wanted to be on the receiving end of his wrath on exam day.

The first hour of the exam was written and dealt with the students displaying their knowledge of the theories behind the spells and their applications. The second half was the practical portion. They would be paired off and half of them would be given a spell to use and a small window of time in which to pull it off. The other half would need to properly deflect the spell. Then they would switch up roles. At the end of it all, anyone that wanted to stay after and test the Patronus charm could.

The written exam went by quickly, and even though he was exhausted, Harry found nothing too challenging in it. For the practical, he was a bit worried that Sarg would pair him with Sophie. Though he wouldn't mind having the chance to stun the hell out of her, he was a bit afraid that, in his current state, he wouldn't be able to hold back. Luckily he was paired with a guy named Daniel and the practical exam went off without a hitch. Afterward, Harry hung back with most of the class to test their Patronus charms. He was surprised to see Emma get up when Sarg dismissed those that would wait until the spring.

"You're not going to give it a try?" Harry whispered as she passed.

She smiled and shook her head. "I was talking to Cliff about it last night and decided that I'm putting to much pressure on myself at the moment. Like you said, I'll never get it if I'm not relaxed. So instead of stressing myself out about it, I'm just going to wait and keep practicing."

"I think that's a very reasonable idea," Harry reassured.

"Feel free to come by my place afterward if you need to." She patted his shoulder and left, along with Sophie, Grant, and a girl named Leia.

Harry was feeling anxious about being able to produce his Patronus that morning. He wasn't sure if all his happy memories would be able to drive out his current fears and exhaustion. When Sarg called his name, Harry's hands were so sweaty he could barely keep a grip on his wand. As his professor sat waiting, Harry thought back to last night's conversation and replayed his and Ginny's first kiss in his mind. Thankfully, it worked. Prongs galloped around Sarg's office several times and Harry was dismissed with exemplary passing marks.

Coming out of the building, Sophie jumped up from a bench and called his name. He ignored her and kept on walking. When she shouted again, he responded with a hand gesture usually reserved for a Malfoy.

Back at his room, he gave Ginny a warning that he was entering and once again heard the bathroom door slam. Harry sighed as he let himself in. The blankets had been folded up and the breakfast plate sat empty on the table. 'At least she ate,' he thought.

"I'd really like to talk," Harry called, swapping out his Defense book for Charms, and Concealment and Disguise. He frowned as he was met with nothing but silence from behind the door. "If you want me, I'll be at Emma's, studying." More silence. "I'll write her room number down for you."

And that's how the rest of Harry's day went. He kept popping back to bring her meals and offer to talk, but everything ended up being a one-sided conversation. He spent the day hiding out in Emma's room, studying and catching a quick kip on her couch. Cliff offered up his sofa bed again, for the evening, but Harry declined.

"I know it's probably useless, but I want to be in a place that's accessible to Ginny. Never know when the urge to finally talk might hit and I don't want to miss the chance because she couldn't find me."

But it was indeed pointless. Harry spent the night alone again, in the lounge. He dozed in and out, but never obtained a deep sleep.

After breakfast, he once again took a plate of food back for Ginny. Opening his door, he was started to panic when he saw it was empty. He quickly crossed the room and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Ginny's suitcase was still there. All the covers and sheets were missing from his bed, though he didn't care about those. He'd happily buy new ones as long as Ginny was still there.

With a half hour before his Charms exam was due to start, Harry took a quick shower and dug out the last bit of clean clothes left in his drawers. At some point, he was going to have to spend time in his room to do laundry, with or without Ginny barricading herself in the bathroom.

Harry was just coming down the steps, buttoning up his shirt, when the door opened and Ginny walked in, arms laden with his bedclothes.

Seeing her made his heart skip a beat. "Hi," he said, tentatively.

"Hey." She stood and stared at him.

Harry hurried over and relieved her of the linens. "I'm sorry, but I have to rush out or I'll be late for this test. I'd really like to talk later today. Please?" He frowned when she didn't respond. "I have two exams, but I'll be done by one and then I have the rest of the day free." Harry instinctively went to hug her but stopped himself. "I'll see you later then," he said hopefully, heading out the door.

Naomi caught up to him as he walked to the Charms building. When she saw his disappointed face, she hugged him. "Still getting the silent treatment?"

"I got a 'hey'," he said dismally. "And she washed my sheets."

Naomi laughed. "That's not a bad sign then. Plus, it sounds like they needed it if you went two weeks without finding strange underwear."

"Honestly, I don't think I've washed them since I've moved in."

"Oh, God!" Naomi cried. "And here I thought you were so clean and tidy!"

The final exam for Charms did not go as expected. Sophie showed up wearing a dark, silk scarf around the lower half of her face and wouldn't make eye contact with anyone, including Ms. Docket. While this had no effect on her written exam, it did hinder her during the practical. All her spells were muffled and consequently, barely touched Harry.

"Miss Miller, if you want to pass this test, you will need to remove your scarf," their teacher warned. Sophie shook her head in refusal. "As long as you are prepared to face the repercussions, so be it."

Harry tried his best not to laugh and kept his composure as he performed all his spells flawlessly. As soon as the class was dismissed, Sophie darted for the door.

"Due justice," Emma sighed, throwing her bag over her shoulder. "Wonder what was up with that stupid scarf? Think she's trying to start a new trend?"

"Who cares?" Alana replied. The others went wide-eyed at their friend's remark. Sweet, quiet Alana never spoke like that. She gave Harry a sad smile. "I'm sorry I said we should give her a second chance. I feel like I'm the reason you're in this mess."

"Of course you're not," Harry insisted, giving her a hug. "Please don't blame yourself for the actions of that silly cow." Harry patted her back and then waved his friends on. "Go ahead without me. I think I need to take a walk before the next exam. I'll catch up with you lot in Concealment."

They waved goodbye as Harry gathered up his things. As soon as he exited the building, though, Sophie was waiting for him.

"Harry, wait!" she yelled, running to catch up with him.

"Sod off Sophie," he called back, striding quickly across the courtyard.

"Would you just stop for a minute!" she cried, jumping in front of him.

"Wait for what exactly?" Harry growled. He stepped back and scowled at her. "You have caused me nothing but frustration and misery! I've been through a lot of horrible shit in my life, but none of it compares to what I've gone through these last two days." Sophie opened her mouth, but Harry kept talking. "No, you don't get to speak. You get to go climb back under whatever bridge you came from and leave me alone. Because of you, the one person I love most in this world refuses to speak to me. Because of you, I'm now afraid to go back to my room for fear of finding her gone. I don't know what sort of sick pleasure you hoped to gain from all of this, but I hope you choke on it. From now on, stay away from me. Stay away from my friends. And most certainly stay away from my girlfriend."

"Yeah, she made that perfectly clear," Sophie spat. She pulled the scarf away from her face and Harry cringed. All along the lining of her lips was a horrible red rash, punctuated with oozing boils.

"Ginny did that?"

"Yeah, and I'd appreciate it if you would undo it." She looked at Harry expectantly, hands on her hips.

Harry snorted a laugh that turned into a chuckle. Within seconds, he was holding his sides, laughing so hard he cried.

"It's not funny! I have to go home to my parents tomorrow. Fix it, now!" she demanded.

"Even if I could, why would I want to?" Harry wheezed. "I'm just sorry I don't have my camera!"

Sophie let out an irritated scream that made the passing students stop and stare. She quickly yanked the scarf back over her mouth and cried, "What am I supposed to do?"

Harry shook his head and started walking away.

"Harry, please!" Sophie begged.

He gave her an over the shoulder wave. "Bye Sophie."

Going into Concealment and Disguise, Harry's mood had risen considerably. He arrived early so that he could giddily fill the others in on his encounter. They all agreed that Ginny cursing Sophie was indeed a good sign and Harry floated through his final. After dismissal, he flew back to his room.

"Ginny!" he called, opening the door. His heart sank when he saw the place empty. Her suitcase remained, but Ginny was out.

He flopped onto the sofa bed and hugged the pillow. The smell of her shampoo lingered and he inhaled, deeply. Resolving to stay and wait for her, Harry let himself fall asleep for the first time in what felt like forever.

It was four o'clock when he woke up to a still empty apartment. With renewed energy, he felt restless. He changed into a running outfit and left a note for Ginny, before heading to the beach.

He decided to go for a long run that evening and made the two-mile trek North, to the Santa Monica Pier. He stood on the end of the pier and watched the sun start to set, wishing more than anything that Ginny was there to share it with him. Just before the sun dipped below the horizon, he started the jog back to Venice.

Standing ankle deep in the water, cooling off and catching his breath, Harry spotted a lone figure sitting in the sand. A wide-brimmed sun hat was perched on her head, but the long red locks underneath were unmistakable. Splashing some water over his head, Harry detoured to a nearby soft pretzel vendor before joining Ginny on the beach.

"You got my note?" he asked, handing her a pretzel.

Ginny accepted, shaking her head. "No, I locked myself out," she answered, nibbling on a corner. "Cliff said he saw you heading out for a run so I figured I'd camp out here and hope you came by."

Harry bit into his own pretzel and silently chewed, watching Ginny's expression as she stared out at the ocean.

"I heard you yelling at Sophie today," she finally said. She took off her hat and turned to Harry. "Were you really afraid I'd leave you?"

"Not many girls would stay after finding what you did."

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"It's just that–wait, what?" Harry stared at her, shocked. "Why are you apologizing? You didn't do anything wrong."

"I did, though. I handled my reaction all wrong. I shouldn't have shut you out. I have a horrible habit of just giving people the silent treatment when I'm upset with them. I used to do it to my brothers all the time and I did it to D–" Ginny stopped and flushed, leaving Dean's name hanging in the air. "You would have thought I'd learned after what happened in June. At least I didn't draw it out for a month this time if you want to call that a silver lining."

"I feel lucky that you're still here, so everything is a silver lining right now." Harry picked up a handful of sand and let the grains trickle through his fingers. "I'm sorry for…well, for everything. I should have told you about the entire, horrible, confusing night." Ginny let out a little laugh and Harry smiled. "Sometimes it's still a bit strange to me that there are people that care about me and what I do. It's like I'm living someone else's life at times. I'm trying though." He started sprinkling sand over her bare toes. "You're the most important thing in my life and I want to share everything with you. I promise I will share it all, the important and the mundane."

Ginny rested her head against his shoulder and Harry's body relaxed. "Why did you go out with her that night?"

Harry sighed and shook his head. "I was so stupid. She had been keeping her distance for a while and Alana was talking about giving her a second chance. Then she caught me alone one afternoon and asked if I wanted to see a movie that night. The way she talked, it sounded like she had planned a group night out. And then there was a miscommunication with Cliff and I ended up at the cinema with just her. I kept thinking that Alana or Emma or someone was going to show up and save me! But no one did and after that, I just couldn't get rid of her." Harry took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. "Can you forgive me for being an idiot?"

She looked up at him and grinned. "Yeah, that night sounds like punishment enough. Was the movie any good at least?"

"It was a film called Shakespeare In Love." Ginny groaned. "Exactly."

"I'm sorry I almost hexed you," Ginny said, tossing a bit of pretzel to a nearby seagull. "Changed my mind at the last second and went for the knockback."

"It's alright, I wanted to hex myself. Speaking of hexes though, what'd you do to Sophie?"

"She had the nerve to approach me in the laundry room. I made sure no guy would want to touch her again, for quite some time. It'll wear off in a week or so….at least, it should."

Harry laughed and kissed her head. Ginny tossed more pretzel pieces to the seagull.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Harry warned.

"Why not?" Three more seagulls appeared and Ginny threw out more bits.

"Gin, stop." Harry grabbed her hand as more birds swarmed in front of them. "There's never just one of them."

One of the seagulls inched closer and squawked, causing Ginny to let out a little shriek. Harry slowly stood up and pulled Ginny to her feet.

"Give them your pretzel," Harry said as another half dozen birds fluttered down.

"I don't want to give them my pretzel."

"I'll get you another one. Just chuck it and run."

"You faced down a dark lord, but you're going to run from a bunch of rats with wings?" As she said it, a seagull swooped over her head. She shrieked again, throwing her arms over her head.

"Yup!" Harry grabbed the pretzel and threw it as far as he could. As soon as the birds went chasing after it, he grabbed Ginny's hand and started running up the beach. They didn't stop until their feet hit the pavement.

Ginny collapsed onto a bench, laughing uncontrollably. "Never thought a bunch of birds could be so menacing!"

"My first week here, I saw a little girl share her crackers with a few of them. Within seconds, the poor kid was surrounded and screaming her head off. It's like they have this seagull telepathy that lets them alert the others to food offerings."

"Aww, did you help her?"

"Her mum came barreling through, waving a beach towel, before I could step in." Harry held out his hand and Ginny took it, standing back up. "Dinner?"

"Dinner sounds perfect."

They got slices of pizza and walked back up the beach, towards campus.

"Our second match is coming up, end of January," Ginny said, between bites. "We're in second place right now, behind Hufflepuff."

"Really? Their match against Ravenclaw went better than expected."

"Yeah, they won by like three hundred points. Hufflepuff is who we play next, so if we win, we'll move to first." She popped the last bit of crust in her mouth before continuing. "I got a letter before we broke for the holidays. Those Holyhead Harpy scouts are coming back, to see me play."

"That's great! I knew you made an impression on them that first match!" Harry beamed at her, but Ginny just pursed her lips. "You're not excited?"

"I guess I am. I mean, it's an honor to even be considered for a professional club. But…" she trailed off and shook her head.

"But what?" Harry gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"I feel like by that time, you and I will be back in the same country and finally able to properly be together. The Harpies are in Wales and–"

"Then we'll move to Wales."

Ginny stopped and looked up at him. "We?" she whispered.

Harry ran his fingertips gently down her cheek. "Of course we. I mean, if you think you can live with me, without going completely mad."

"I'm already completely mad for you." She leaned up and kissed him. "My mum won't be too pleased with the thought."

"I have a feeling, by June, my list of Things Molly Weasley Wants to Kill Me For will be pretty full. One more thing won't make a difference." Harry wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. "Once I'm back in England, where ever you go, I'll happily follow, for as long as you let me."

Climbing the flights of steps, Ginny had him laughing about Hermione finally using The Wizarding Wheezes' Daydream Charm and how she had to swallow her pride and go settle up her bet with George.

"I've never seen George looking so smug," Ginny giggled as Harry slipped the key in the lock.

Harry was just about to open the door when he heard muffled talking. He held a finger to his lips and listened.

"Would you just check?" came Emma's voice.

"Give him some privacy. You know he'll tell us everything tomorrow," Cliff replied.

Harry knocked hard on Cliff's door. It slowly opened and Emma peeked out.

"Good night guys," Harry said smiling, as Ginny waved from behind him.

"Good night!" Emma called.

"So, your suspicions about them are true?" Ginny asked as they walked in and Harry peeled off his sweaty shirt.

"Yeah, but no one else knows yet." Harry pointed his wand at the sofa be. "Can I turn that back into a couch?"

"Please do. I plan on being elsewhere tonight." She smiled coyly at him and sauntered over, wrapping her arms around his waist. "You smell like the ocean."

"I should probably go shower."

"I didn't say it was a bad thing," she whispered, kissing his neck. "I was hoping we might be able to recapture our moment from the other night."

"Is that so?" Harry held her tighter.

"Mmm hmm," she hummed in his ear, sending sparks through his body.

Harry scooped Ginny up, tossed her over his shoulder, and took her to bed.

The following morning, he was woken up by a soft, warm body snuggling into his. He pulled the duvet tightly around them and buried his face in her hair, sighing contentedly.

"Good morning," Ginny said, running her fingers through his hair.

"Yeah, it is." Through closed eyes, he could feel her eyes on him. "You're staring at me."

"I'm trying to read your mind."

Harry groaned. "It's not as much fun as it sounds." He peeked at her, out of one eye. "You could always just ask."

"What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that I'm extremely warm and relaxed, and I never want to leave this bed. You?"

"I'm wondering why all the other girls I've talked to say the first time is the worst." She let her fingers fall to his chest.

Both Harry's eyes flew open. "What other girls have you been talking to? And why?"

"Other girls, you know, like Hermione and such, at school. It's just one of the topics of conversations that circle around when we have downtime and hang out."

"Oh, good lord." Harry groaned again. "What exactly do you tell each other?"

"There's never any specific details," Ginny laughed. "It just seemed like those with….experience…were of the consensus that the first time usually doesn't live up to expectations. But I find it quite the opposite." She beamed at him, caressing his cheek.

"Maybe they aren't sharing it with someone they're truly in love with," Harry suggested.

"Kudos on scoring major boyfriend points there, but are you saying Hermione doesn't really love Ron?"

"Oh Gin," Harry moaned. "Don't make me think about my two best friends that way." He buried his face in his pillow.

"So you and Ron don't talk about stuff like this?"

"Do you think it'd be a wise choice to talk to my best friend about shagging his sister? Maybe after that, I'll go have a nice heart to heart with Bill?"

"I see your point."

Harry smiled and brushed the wisps of hair from her face. "Sorry, love. Guys just don't talk about that stuff like you girls do." He went to kiss her but was interrupted by a pounding on the door.

"You ready, Potts?" Cliff yelled.

Ginny looked over Harry's shoulder, at his alarm clock. "You have an exam in fifteen minutes."

"Shit!"

Harry scurried out of bed and started pulling open drawers. "Arg! I have no clean clothes!"

"Check the laundry basket, at the bottom of the steps," Ginny directed.

"Have I told you lately how amazing you are?"

Harry jumped the steps and started pulling clothes on, not giving any notice to if they matched or not. He stepped into his trainers and then ran back up the stairs.

Scrambling back into bed, he gave Ginny a quick, deep kiss. "Don't go anywhere! I'm coming back and we're spending the rest of the day in bed."

"Deal," she giggled. She kissed him once more before handing him his glasses. "I love you."

"I love you."

Harry felt as though he was floating on air as he made a mad dash for his final exam.


	19. Chapter 19

Harry woke on Christmas morning to an ear piercing squeal. Shoving his glasses onto his face, he grabbed his wand and bolted down the steps. He whipped around quickly, trying to figure out what was wrong, but all he saw was Ginny reading a card with a giant smile on her face.

"What's going on?" Harry cried, not lowering his wand.

"Fleur and Bill are having a baby!" she yelled, waving the card.

"Oh, thank Merlin," Harry breathed, clutching his chest and sinking to the floor.

"You okay?" Ginny asked, coming over to sit beside him.

"Yeah, just need to catch my breath," Harry chuckled. He buried his face in her shoulder and mumbled, "You scared me half to death. So when is the little one due to arrive?"

"End of April. They just announced it today and mum sent an express owl."

"Tell them congratulations for me." Harry kissed her cheek and staggered to his feet. He went to put on a clean t-shirt, while Ginny skipped to the desk to write a quick reply to her mum.

"It looks like they've kept the owls busy," Ginny said, signing her letter and folding it up. "Athena seems quite put out by all the gifts blocking her cage."

Harry looked over at the owl's cage and as if on cue, Athena hooted irritably from her perch atop it. He laughed as Ginny moved a few boxes away and refilled her owl pellet tray. Athena glided from her perch to Ginny's shoulder, nipped her savior's ear affectionately, and then hopped into the cage for her breakfast.

Harry started sifting through all the gifts piled on his desk. An enormous basket, brimming with sweets, sat center of all the brightly colored paper. He checked the card dangling from the handle and his eyes went wide. It read- 'With unending gratitude and admiration, Happy Christmas!' and was signed by Mr. and Mrs. Flume, owners of Honeydukes.

"Wow," Harry whispered, eyeing the contents. There was at least one of every product arranged around three small parcels in gold wrappings. "What do you think is so special about these?" he asked, picking up one of the boxes and turning to Ginny.

"Don't know," she answered, plucking another from the basket. "Shall we find out?"

Harry nodded and ripped off the wrapping paper. "Huh," he said, slightly disappointed. He turned an ordinary Chocolate Frog box over in his hand. "Bit of an anti-climactic build up." He looked up at Ginny and she held up an identical box. Harry shrugged and opened the candy box, catching the leaping confection as it tried to make a getaway. He broke off a piece of the chocolate as he pulled out the card. A familiar freckled redhead winked up at him. "Merlin! It's Ron!"

"You're joking!" Ginny glanced at the card, then tore open her box. She took no notice to the chocolate that jumped over her shoulder and out of sight. "Hermione's in this one!" she cried, holding up the card.

"Then that means…" Harry trailed off and they slowly looked over at the last gold package. Ginny snatched up the package and shoved it into Harry's hands. He quickly shed the wrappings and dumped the contents of the box. The frog had no time to jump and landed on the floor with a splat. Harry didn't care though as he stared in awe at his own face smiling and waving back at him.

"Well, what's it say?" Ginny asked anxiously.

Harry turned the card over and started reading. "The first and only known wizard to survive the Killing Curse, earning the title 'The Boy Who Lived'. Youngest Quidditch player in the last century after gaining the spot of Seeker on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team in 1991. Also known for having found Salazar Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets and defeating the monster within. Youngest competitor, and the winner, of the Triwizard Tournament at the age of 14 in 1995. Most famous for the defeat of the most dangerous wizard of all time, Lord Voldemort, in 1998."

"You guys got your own cards. That's so cool," Ginny said, gliding her fingers over Harry's picture and causing it to scurry out of frame. Ginny giggled and held up Ron and Hermione's cards for closer inspection.

"Do you know how chuffed your brother is going to be to add himself to his collection?"

"I'm sure he's over the moon right now!"

By mid-morning, Harry and Ginny were lounging on either side of the couch, wrapped in their newest hand-knitted sweaters from Molly. Ginny's was rose pink, with tiny yellow stars around the cuffs, and Harry's was royal blue, with the Dodger's D logo on the chest. The basket of Honeydukes candy was between them and the floor was littered with wrappers. Harry was making his way through a tin of Chocoballs, every now and then reaching up to pop a blue bubble from Ginny's Drooble's.

"Mum would be appalled at our breakfast," Ginny laughed between bubbles. "How is it possible to be so tired from doing absolutely nothing?" She stretched and yawned, then started choking on her bubble gum. Harry waved his wand quickly. The gum dislodged and zoomed into his hand. "Thanks!" she wheezed, clutching her throat.

"Maybe that's a sign to put the sweets away and get ready to head to Cliff's," Harry suggested, peeling the sticky wad of goo from his hand and folding it up in a discarded wrapper.

Cliff had invited the pair to his house for Christmas dinner. He had promised a relaxing day, with every sort of food you could imagine. Harry had been looking forward to a low-key Christmas with Ginny but had completely overlooked the fact that the campus cafe would be closed during the holidays. Harry wasn't the best cook, to begin with, and there was only so much a man could do with the microwave in the No-Maj lounge. So when Cliff had offered a hot, home-cooked feast, Harry and Ginny instantly accepted.

After quick showers, they donned their new Weasley sweaters once more and Harry packed up his camera, the assortment of Wheezes fireworks that George had sent, a case of lager sent from Bill and Fleur, and the jug of Rosmerta's Mead from Hermione. From the No-Maj lounge, Harry rang up a taxi and then he and Ginny set off for the little convenience shop that sat just over the boundaries of the Academy.

The address that Harry gave the driver took them a couple miles north, into The Valley. Harry had yet to venture to this part of Los Angeles. As they cruised up the motorway, Harry pointed out all the lavish houses set up on the hillsides.

"They're quite brave, aren't they? Didn't Cliff say this area is prone to earthquakes?" Ginny asked. She looked at Harry and he nodded. "I don't know if I'd spend that much money on such a beautiful house when one little shake could send it all toppling down a mountainside."

"Location, location, location sweetheart," a gravelly voice called out. Harry looked towards the front and saw the cab driver's eyes studying them in the rearview mirror. "In L.A., you pay for the view, honey."

Harry quietly snorted, trying to hold in a laugh as Ginny's eyes shot daggers into the back of the driver's head. Even Harry wouldn't try to get away with calling her 'honey'.

A few minutes later, they pulled up to the front of a small, two-story robin eggs' blue house. Numerous cars already filled up the street parking, so the cab driver double parked beside a white minivan to let the couple out. Harry said a quick thanks and passed the man a twenty, before climbing out of the taxi, behind Ginny.

The house's front garden was enclosed behind a black, metal fence, but the main gate had been left open. Harry and Ginny made their way up the front path and knocked on the heavy oak door. A second later, Cliff's grinning face appeared, pressed up against the frosted window.

Cliff quickly pulled open the door and yelled, "You found us! Come on it!" He stepped back so Harry and Ginny could come through the door. "Don't worry about your shoes. We're going to head right to the backyard. Let me introduce you to the fam."

As they made their way through the house, Cliff introduced them to his mom, Noel Morris, and his Aunt Mary, both bustling back and forth in the kitchen as they prepared the meal. The smells instantly conjured visions of the Burrow in Harry's mind, though he definitely detected more spices in the air of Cliff's kitchen. His and Ginny's offers to help were quickly dismissed by Noel as she shooed them from her kitchen with a smile.

"You two look adorable, by the way, in those sweaters," Cliff said, pointing between Harry and Ginny.

"Glad you think so, mate. Molly sent one along for you," Harry laughed, shoving a bulky, wrapped gift into Cliff's arms.

"Seriously?" Cliff said, his eyes lighting up. He tore the paper away and shook out a sweater identical to Harry's. "Your mom is awesome," Cliff cried, giving Ginny a quick hug before shedding his t-shirt and pulling on the new sweater.

"I thought mom told you last year, no stripping at Christmas, Clifford," a voice called from behind. Harry looked over his shoulder and saw a very pretty girl smiling at Cliff. Her hair was honey blonde and reached down to the middle of her back. Hazel eyes twinkled as she showed off rows of perfect white teeth. She wore a snug black sweater dress over red and green leggings.

Harry had just put together that it must be Cliff's sister when a smack on the back of his head made his him spin back around. Ginny was glaring at him. "Ow, what was that for?" he asked, massaging his head.

"You were starting to ogle," she hissed.

Harry started to defend himself, but he caught a playful glint in her eyes and a smile tugging at her lips. "I'm sorry," he whispered, leaning over and giving her a kiss.

"Harry, Ginny, this is my sister Penelope," Cliff introduced.

Penelope gave Ginny a hug, but Harry quickly held out his hand, not keen on another smack.

"Ignore Clifford. Please, call me Penny," the blonde laughed, shaking Harry's hand.

"Then stop calling me Clifford," Cliff growled.

Penny waved his comment off and gestured towards a long table, already piled with food. "Help yourself to whatever you'd like. The main meal will start in about a half hour. As you can see, my mom and Mary think they're feeding an entire football team, so be prepared for leftovers." She smiled once more and walked into the house.

"She's nice," Harry said, pulling out a bottle of lager and handing it to Cliff. Ginny swatted his arm. "Ow! What? I said she was nice. It's not like I said she was hot or anything!"

"You think my sister's hot, Potts?" Cliff asked, arching an eyebrow and grinning.

"No! I think she's nice," Harry said, catching Ginny's hand just before it made contact with his shoulder. "She's just nice!"

"Good, you're not her type anyway." Cliff twisted the top off his beer and took a gulp. He turned to Ginny, with a devilish smile. "You are definitely her type, though. Fair warning, she gets a bit handsy after about two glasses of wine." Cliff winked as Ginny's eyes grew wide.

"Well, now that could make for an interesting Christmas…" Harry laughed. He pulled Ginny close before she could start a new assault. "So, dude, how cool are your neighbors?" he asked Cliff.

"They're pretty chill. All magical families, if that's what you mean."

"Sweet." Harry let go of Ginny and picked up his bag of Wizard Wheezes gifts. "Gin's brother sent me a bunch of his fireworks for Christmas and I was thinking we could set them off tonight. I just wanted to make sure your neighbors won't flip out on us."

"Yes! They'll be totally down for that!" Cliff said, pulling out the pack of fireworks to inspect.

"It's nice to see you learning the native language," Ginny laughed. Harry shot her a quizzical look and Ginny explained, "I have never heard you say 'dude' before. What has he done to you?"

Cliff laughed and said, "I teach him the language and he introduces me to proper beer."

"Cheers to that mate," Harry said, clinking his bottle against Cliff's.

Harry sat his packages off to the side, then followed Cliff to the array of food on the table. They piled up small plates with appetizers and then joined Cliff for more introductions as they met other family members. Harry was finally able to meet Uncle Walt and thank him for the baseball tickets. Walt was pleased that Harry had taken to the sport and assured him that he'd get him and Cliff to a few more pre-season games before Harry had to return to England.

After the introductions, the three found a few empty chairs and sat to wait for dinner to be served. Cliff summoned more beers and opened them up, passing one each to Harry and Ginny.

"Did I tell you Ginny's getting scouted by a professional Quidditch team?" Harry said to Cliff, taking a drink.

"Really? That's amazing! Congratulations!" Cliff said, holding up his hand for a high five.

Ginny's blush matched her hair as her hand connected with Cliff's. "Thanks, but it's nothing really."

"It's not nothing!" Harry protested. "There's an all-girls team called the Holyhead Harpies. There were scouts at the first game, back in November, checking out another's house's Seeker. Now, they're coming back to see more of Gin."

"See more of Ginny do what?" Penny asked, throwing a wide smile at Ginny.

"Back off tiger, she's taken," Cliff joked, throwing his arm in front of his sister, as though holding her back from pouncing. "Ginny's getting scouted by a professional Quidditch team, back in Britain.

"Oh, that is exciting! What position do you play?" Penny asked, pushing Cliff's arm away.

"Chaser," Ginny answered.

"Penny's a bit odd and follows all those weird foreign sports," Cliff muttered to Harry, just loud enough for the girls to hear, earning him scowls. "She actually enjoys watching Cricket."

"Most people have to be drunk to do that," Harry laughed.

Penny ignored Harry's comment and waved her wand so that Harry and Ginny's chairs pulled away from each other. Harry gaped in surprise, but Penny took no notice. She conjured her own chair and settled into it, then turned to Ginny to continue to talk about Quidditch.

"Apologies for my sister's lack of subtlety and decorum," Cliff said loudly, throwing a grape that bounced off Penny's head. Penny didn't look back but gave Cliff a hand gesture that showed him what she thought of his opinion.

"So, when is Emma coming back?" Harry asked.

"In, like, two days. She wants to come back to meet Ron and Hermione. When do they arrive?"

"Tomorrow, at twelve. Gin and I are going to meet them at the airport, then we'll probably do a bit of sightseeing around the city. You're welcome to join us. It'd be nice to have a proper tour guide."

"Yeah, I'm game for that. Penny and I are going with my mom to visit my great-grandmother, at her nursing home, but after that I'm free. Want to meet up at the Chinese restaurant, have some lunch, and then go from there?" Cliff suggested.

"Sounds like a plan."

The rest of the afternoon passed leisurely. After everyone had stuffed themselves with seconds and thirds at dinner, Penny brought out the board game Monopoly and invited Harry and Ginny to join them in their traditional Christmas Day battle.

"How is it a battle?" Ginny asked, prodding the racecar piece with her wand. "None of the pieces even move."

Harry smiled and placed his battleship piece on GO. "The battle isn't within the game. The battle ends up being between the players."

"Why?"

"Oh, this will be even more fun than last year when Cliff threw a tantrum because my purple spaces bankrupted him," Penny laughed.

"Who the hell puts hotels on Baltic Avenue?" Cliff cried, obviously still sore over his loss the previous year. "Just wait, I'll have my revenge. Plus, it's my turn to be the racecar."

Penny smiled and rolled her eyes, placing her Scotty dog piece beside Harry's. Ginny looked over the remaining pieces and selected the thimble.

"Ooh, look out for the scary thimble everyone!" Cliff teased. Ginny raised her eyebrows and folded her arms across her chest. Cliff handed her the dice and said, "Weakest piece goes first."

"Maybe I should ask Emma about 'weak pieces' next time I see her," Ginny quipped, successfully rendering Cliff speechless and causing Penny to double over in laughter.

"I like her," Penny wheezed, holding her stomach. "I really like her."

Two hours later, Cliff's head hit the table with a thud as Ginny watched him with a smug smile.

"Boardwalk, with a hotel, double since I also own Park Place," she read, holding up the property card, "That comes to four thousand dollars." She held her hand out expectantly.

"I don't have that, but could I interest you in a hundred and Reading Railroad?" Cliff asked, offering up his final assets. "Look, I'm almost at GO and then I can give you two hundred more!"

"Sorry, Cliff. You've been Monopolied," Ginny said, taking the last of his money and property.

Harry threw his hands over his face and chuckled. "That's not a thing, Gin."

"Shush! It is now," Penny laughed. "Please, come back next year. This has been thoroughly enjoyable."

"Could you please stop reveling in my misery and go put some music on," Cliff groaned. He flicked his wand and the game contents flew neatly back into the box.

Penny ruffled her brother's hair and asked, "Some Bruce Springsteen to soothe that savage burn?"

"The Boss heals all," Cliff agreed and Penny walked into the house.

Ginny summoned two glasses of wine and handed one to Harry. She went to sit back in her chair, but Harry hooked her waist and pulled her into his lap.

"No one can sit between us if we share a seat," Harry mumbled against her neck. Goose pimples spread across her skin, causing the tiny hairs along the nape of her neck to stand up and tickle his nose.

"Why hadn't we thought of that before?" Ginny sighed and leaned back against Harry's chest, tucking her head into the crook of his neck and shoulder. When the sounds of piano and saxophone filled the air, Harry smiled and held her a little tighter as he started humming along to 'Merry Christmas, Baby'.

"Come on, sulky," Penny chided, pulling Cliff to his feet and dragging him to the grass. He resisted, but Harry could see the grin creeping across his face. Finally, Cliff relented and followed along. With a wave of his wand, strings of white lights softly illuminated the backyard. Harry and Ginny giggled when he grabbed Penny's hand and twirled her around, sending her blond locks swirling about. They caught the glow of the lights and made her look like a spinning angel.

"You were right," Ginny murmured.

"About what?" Harry asked, sipping his wine.

"You needed to come here."

"To Cliff's house?"

"No," Ginny laughed. She turned herself around so that she was kneeling on the chair, straddling Harry's lap. She rested one arm on his shoulder, careful not to spill her drink down his back, and reached up with her other to brush his fringe to the side. "America. You would have been miserable back at Hogwarts, and I can see now how much you needed a change of scenery. I'm glad you came and found a bunch of crazies that you fit right in with."

"Hey!" Harry said, in mock protest, before smiling. "Sanity really is overrated."

"I love you," Ginny whispered, leaning down.

His echoed affection was swallowed by her kiss; slow and effortless, Harry let a soft moan escape as her sweet, berry soaked tongue swirled over his. A slow burn started to engulf Harry's insides and, with immense self-control, broke the kiss. Ginny didn't seem to mind. She simply bowed her head and nuzzled his neck.

"I think you should set off those fireworks so we can go home and you can show me your tattoo again," she purred against his skin.

"Yeah?" She nodded and kissed the sensitive spot just below his ear. "Cliff!"

Harry downed the remainder of his wine in one gulp and left Ginny giggling in the chair. After reassuring his friend that George's fireworks were designed to not set anything on fire, they cleared out a corner of the garden and Harry summoned the deluxe box of pyrotechnics. Cliff did the honor of lighting the fuse before hurrying back to the group to enjoy the show.

George had pulled out all the stops on Harry's gift. Every firework in Weasley's Wizard Wheezes' arsenal had been packed into the box. They easily spent an hour lighting up the night sky, with Harry and Ginny showing off the effects of trying to stun and vanish the different fireworks. Shouts and squeals of laughter rang out from the neighboring houses.

As the last few Catherine Wheels lazily rolled across the stars, guests started to yawn and say their goodbyes. Harry and Ginny found Noel and thanked her profusely for the meal and hospitality as she bestowed upon them a bag full of leftovers, and Harry promised that he would join Cliff and Emma for a Sunday dinner in the near future.

"It was so nice to meet you both," Penny said as she hugged them both, then turned to Ginny. "Please, keep me posted on your Quidditch career. I'll start planning a trip to Europe now so that I can catch a live match."

"Well, make sure everything is refundable. There's no guarantee that this scouting will actually materialize into anything," Ginny said, with an apprehensive smile.

"Don't listen to her," Harry said, cupping his hand over Ginny's mouth before she could protest. "Quidditch season starts in October."

"I will mark it on my calendar," Penny remarked, with a wink.

"You need me to call a cab, Potts?" Cliff asked.

"Nah, we're good to apparate back," Harry answered, taking hold of Ginny's hand and tugging her closer. "See ya tomorrow?"

"Yup. Have a good night you two," Cliff said, winking.

"You know, you look just like your sister when you do that," Ginny quipped.

"And here I thought I liked you, Weasley," Cliff sighed shaking his head.

"G'night," Harry laughed. He held Ginny tight and apparated them back to the campus square. Back in his room, Ginny pushed him up against the door and resumed their kiss. "Wow, you're not wasting any time, are you?"

"Shut up and take your shirt off," she breathed, undoing the button on Harry's jeans.

Harry swiftly pulled his jumper over his head and chucked it in the general vicinity of the laundry bin as his trousers hit the floor. He stepped out of them and started guiding Ginny towards the bed, leaving a trail of her clothing on the floor in their wake. When they reached the bed, Harry pulled her flush against his chest and bent down for another kiss. His lips had barely ghosted hers when he was shoved onto the bed and she was climbing on top of him.

"Wine has some very interesting and rewarding effects on you," Harry mused. He rested his hands above his head as Ginny's fingers trailed over his shoulders and down his chest.

"No, you have some very interesting and rewarding effects on me," Ginny corrected.

Harry groaned as she leaned down and her bare chest met his. "As long as there's reward for us at the end." He cupped her face in his hands and pulled her lips to his.

"There's definitely a reward," Ginny reassured and deepened their kiss.

Leaving his lips, she peppered feathery kisses down his jaw before moving to his neck. She nipped at the sensitive flesh, causing Harry to let out a satisfied moan. He closed his eyes and allowed Ginny to do as she wished to him, which was extremely relaxing until she reached his hips and gave them a ticklish squeeze.

"Hey!" Harry chuckled, squirming underneath her grasp.

"Huh, never would have taken you as one for being ticklish." She dug her fingers into his sides and smirked when Harry let out a surprisingly high pitched giggle and tried to wriggle free.

"Not fair!" Harry wheezed.

"Who said anything about playing fair?" Ginny asked innocently.

"Oh, well, if that's the case." Harry grabbed her waist and rolled so that he was straddling her. He pulled his askew glasses from his face and tossed them to the bedside table. "Let's see just how ticklish you are," he said, his hands hovering menacingly at her sides.

"After growing up with six brothers, do you really think I'm not immune to tickling?" Ginny said, snapping the waistband of his boxers.

"You can't be immune to tickling. You're either ticklish, or you're not."

"Then mark me down as not," Ginny said, a determined look settling over her face.

"If you say so," Harry sighed. He waited a beat as Ginny's features relaxed before giving her sides a squeeze and reveling in her squeals. "Nah, not ticklish at all, are ya?"

"Okay, okay!" Ginny panted, grabbing at Harry's hands and trying to pry them off her hips. "You called my bluff! Truce!  
"Truce," Harry agreed, releasing his hold and lacing his fingers with Ginny's as he leaned down. "I can think of a much better use for my fingers anyway."

"And what would that be?" Ginny breathed, her warm breath against his neck forcing a low growl to erupt from his throat.

"First, I could-"  
Harry was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Who the bloody hell is that? It's well after midnight," Ginny looked up at Harry. "Expecting company?"

"There is a very limited guest list for this event," Harry said, watching the door. When nothing happened, he shook his head and returned his attention to Ginny. "Probably Cliff and he's just realized that he's being an interrupting prat."

"So, you were about to tell me all about your useful-"

There was another knock on the door, this time more insistent than the first.

"Go away, Cliff! I'll talk to you tomorrow!" Harry shouted.

"Maybe you should go answer it," Ginny said, letting her head flop back against the bed.

"But-"

The knocking turned into pounding and Harry groaned.

"It might be an emergency," Ginny said.

"If it's not, it's going to turn into one," Harry grumbled. He rolled off the bed and said, "Don't move. I'm not done with you," pointing at Ginny. He jumped down the steps and stalked to the door. He opened it a crack, saying, "Honestly, we just saw you. What could-"

The door was pushed open the rest of the way and Ron came barging through. "About time! Where the bloody hell have you been?" the redheaded man groused, tossing his rucksack to the floor.

Harry stood dumbfounded in the doorway, looking between Ron and Hermione, who was standing in the hall with her face sporting a brilliant shade of crimson. Ginny's shriek kicked Harry's brain back into gear and he hastily pulled on his discarded jeans. He looked up at the bed and saw Ginny had dived under the duvet, with just the top of her head peeking out.

"You couldn't wait and shag my sister after you picked us up?" Ron asked, quirking his lips in annoyance.

"I-we were-I didn't-hold up!" Harry cried, shaking his head in confusion. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to get in at twelve."

"Yeah, and if you haven't noticed, it's past twelve mate."

"Ron, did you happen to forget to state a.m. or p.m. in your letter?" Hermione asked, stepping into the room and setting her bag down beside Ron's.

"It would appear he did," Harry answered for his friend. "When he said twelve, I assumed he meant noon, not midnight. Why would you schedule a portkey so late?"

"It's not late. We got the first portkey out this morning," Ron said.

"Fucking time zones," Harry groaned, scrubbing his hands over his face. "How in the world were you able to get here?"

"Because my girlfriend's a genius," Ron said, pointing to Hermione. "She visualized the pictures you sent at the start of term and was able to apparate to the campus."

"Sorry, Harry. If I had known we were interrupting...things...we would have gone to get a coffee or something," Hermione said, giving him a guilty look.

"No, it's fine. You shouldn't be wandering around a strange city, in the middle of the night."

"Are you going to keep hiding up there or come down and say hello?" Ron called to his sister.

"If you haven't noticed, I'm not really in a decent state of dress to take part in the welcoming committee," Ginny called back, her voice muffled by the blankets.

"Would you like us to leave so you can get back to…?" Hermione trailed off.

"God, no!" Harry gathered Hermione into a hug. "Make yourselves at home. My cabinets are a bit bare, but there's plenty of tea and biscuits, and Cliff's mom sent us off with a bunch of leftovers," Harry said, pointing to the bag sitting on his small counter. He tried to stifle a yawn, but Hermione gave him a sympathetic smile.

"Go to bed, Harry. We'll catch up in the morning," she said, rubbing his shoulder and giving him a nudge towards the stairs.

"But, what will you guys do?"

"Pretty sure we're capable of taking care of ourselves for a few hours," Hermione assured.

"Yeah, get some sleep, mate. We'll be fine," Ron said, his head buried in the bag of leftovers. No doubt the containers would be empty come sunrise.

"If you're sure," Harry said, fighting back another yawn.

"Just throw up some curtains and a silencing charm if you'll be recommencing your previous activities."

"Ron!" Ginny shouted.

"Wha-ow! Why'd ya smack me?" Ron cried, rubbing his shoulder in the aftermath of Hermione's slap.

"I think we'll just be going to sleep now," Harry laughed climbing the steps to his bed.

"Harry Potter!" Hermione cried, causing Harry to abruptly stop and turn around. "What in Merlin's name is on your back?"

Harry grinned and just said, "Goodnight!" before continuing to the bed. He climbed under the blankets and was met with Ginny's pouting face. "To be continued," he whispered, running his thumb over her bottom lip.

"You mean when we go home and are under my mother's hawk eyes?"

"Don't worry. I'm working on strategies to avoid those."


End file.
